


Stop Me

by Fuzzy_Logics



Category: X-Men, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Detectives, BAMF Erik, Dark, F/M, M/M, Other, Serial Killer Charles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-01-23 17:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12512764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzy_Logics/pseuds/Fuzzy_Logics
Summary: There is a rising number of deaths that look like suicides, but as Detective Erik Lehnsherr looks deeper into them. He realizes it may be the work of a telepathic serial killer. Can he put a stop to this madman or will he find himself under the spell of a killer that can control his very thoughts.





	1. Chapter 1

Stop Me  
Chapter 1

Damn.

He had hoped to have this one a little longer. Somehow it got away from him.

“I don't know what happened.”

You know exactly what happened. 

He paced around the small dark room, listening to the sound of his soft heels tap softly against the wooden panels. He ran a hand through his wavy hair. He would need to cut it soon.

“Don't lose control again.”

He didn't mean to. Except that it was so hard to focus when he ran right past him. He was a vision, a sign. Some kind of epiphany to what needed to happen next. He was so close, he could smell the sweat and faint trace of gunpowder upon him. His eyes were clear and cold, like a lake high in the hills of Europe somewhere. His mouth tight but his lips looked soft as small puffs of condensation came out between them in steady bursts. His dark hair slicked back out of the way of those determined eyes. His body tall and lithe, with legs that took each long stride like he was running across clouds. Maybe he wasn't even touching the ground.

“Magnificent.” His own voice sounded thick with arousal. Yes, that was it. He was aroused by him. Never had he felt so connected to someone before. Never had he wanted to. After all this time trying to die, and die, and die, did he suddenly feel like living.

This could be something. The next step to reaching the destination.

But he would have to be careful not to lose control again, and it would be harder. 

After all.

He was a cop.

 

Detective Erik Lehnsherr reached his desk and sat his cup of coffee upon the top, where it matched the faint rings of previous batches that made permanent dark rings on the surface. He looked over and gave a silent nod to Armando who returned the gesture. That was all that would be said for the rest of the day between them as neither one were fond of bullshit and small talk. After ten years of being in the department basement where Mutant Crimes and Investigations resided, you got enough of it from the other officers whispering behind your back.

He just hoped today would be another day of punching in and out so he could go home and isolate himself away with a good book, or maybe a game of chess.  
But he wasn't that lucky.

“Detective Lehnsherr?”

Shit. Erik gritted his teeth and looked over to where the voice came from. Standing in the doorway was lieutenant Scott Summers. The precinct's Boy Scout and major kiss-ass who was making his way up the chain rather quickly for someone who had only been here for two years.

“Are you lost Summers?” Erik gave him his best scowl but it was difficult to see if it had any effect on the young man behind his red visor.

“I've been looking for you. You're late.” Scott walked up to his desk with a folder in his hand.

“Last time I checked, I don't report to you. And if the Chief has a problem with it, he can say it to my face.”

“I'm not here about that.” Scott look down at the floor and began to shift uncomfortably. “Look, I know we don't exactly see eye to eye a few things-”

“You mean on how humans treat mutants and the growing rate of hate crimes that litter my desk everyday and yet you and a few of your fellow officers up above refuse to do anything to prevent or protect the lives of our own kind? What else could we not agree on?”

“Hey, we are trying to make a difference. It's just there is a lot of red tape that needs to be tended to and there is jurisdiction issues and- look, I'm not here to argue about our situation and how delicate the state of the country, hell, the world is right now. I am trying to the best I can for my city one case at a time.” Scott let out a sigh.

“Please, I need your help.”

“Excuse me?” Erik swirled his chair toward Summers. He couldn't believe what he just heard. I have to find out what this is about. “Say that again.”

“I have a case here I could use your help on.” Scott handed over the case file almost reluctantly. “Eight deaths over the past six months.”

Erik stared at the folder for a moment wondering if this was some kind of a joke. It had to be a dead end case or a wild goose chase. Something that Summers didn't want to do himself but wanted to clean up to improve his case rate.

“Eight murders? Of mutants or humans?”

“No and both.”

Erik frowned. “What do you mean 'no'? You know I only work in mutant cases. I really couldn't care less about human problems. There's plenty of guys up there with you that help those creatures.”

“They're not murders so to speak. And I believe that there is someone responsible for both the mutant and the human cases, so they are all connected. You kind of have to take it all on together.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” This made Erik snatch the file out of Scott's hands and begin flipping through it. He stopped on a picture of a man, or what was left of him, lying on the ground. Most of his body was eviscerated and strewn about the factory floor. Blood splattered the assembly line track and the heavy machinery that looked to be the culprit of the man's demise. 

“He threw himself onto the track of a cutter used to slice up carcasses of meat here at a slaughter house just on the outskirts of the city.”

“Are you sure he wasn't pushed or maybe fell asleep and fell on top of it?” Erik scanned the details briefly.

“Nobody even knew he was there. He doesn't even work there.” Scott shook his head.

“So he committed suicide.” Erik flipped to the next picture taken off a security feed. It was taken from what looked like seconds before he stepped off a subway platform and into a train about to reach the station.

“This looks to be the same thing. A suicide.” 

Scott simply nodded. Erik looked back at the pictures. “Victim shot himself in the mouth. Victim jumped into the tiger case and was mauled to death. This one looks like auto erotic asphyxiation. Slit wrists with a carving knife along with his femoral artery and the carotid too. A female that weighted herself and jumped off a pier. This one drank a concoction of liquid detergent and drain cleaner. I don't understand what you're looking into. These are all suicides. Clear as day.” He snapped the file shut and offered it back. Scott shook his head.

“I spoke to the victim's families and friends. All of them say it was out of character for each one of them to do such a thing. There was no warnings, no notes-”

“Perhaps they didn't know them as well as they thought.”

“One of the victims was just about to be a father. His wife said he was over the moon with joy. He painted the spare room and even built the crib from scratch.”

“Maybe he was overcome with stress. A child can be stressful. Maybe he the room wasn't well ventilated and the paint got to him.” Erik shrugged.

“I thought about that but-”

“It says here two of these victims, the woman and the wrist victim were recently released from a psychiatric hospital.”

“Y-yeah. Miss Ventura was schizophrenic and Mr. Tate recovered from a nervous breakdown.”

“And these two cases are suspicious? How?”

“Miss Ventura and Mr. Tate do seem like the type to do something like this, but their doctor says that Miss Ventura was not the kind to self harm herself. In fact she was more in fear of people doing this to her that she would lock herself up in her room to keep people away from her. Mr. Tate was pretty religious and suicide would have been the last thing he would want to do.”

“Seems like you're stretching Summers.”

“Maybe I am but the others are really out of the blue. I'm telling you there is something going on.” Scott pulled a USB out of his coat pocket. “Take a look at this. It came in this morning.”

He plugged it into Erik's computer. Within a few seconds an video popped up. “This is from General Hospital last night.” He clicked play.

“Please! You gotta help me!” It was a frantic young man, mid-twenties, like the other victims, shouting at a nurse at the register desk. “I need you to lock me away!”

“Sir! Sir, you need to calm down.” The nurse tried, but the man grabbed hand in a vice-like grip.

“I need to be tied up. I can't- I can't control myself anymore!” His body shook as if he had been dunked into the frigid river. “I'm losing control right now, you have to help me! I don't want to d-”

“You're hurting me!” the nurse winced. A security guard came running down the hall. “HEY! Let her go!”

Erik watched as the pandemonium continued. The man let go of the nurse. “I'm sorry but you have to believe me! I'm not myself anymore! I-” Suddenly he stopped as if someone hit an off switch. The shaking was gone and his face lowered toward the floor. 

Erik leaned in closer. He noticed a small chuckle emitted from the man's mouth before he looked up again and stared back at the nurse, then to the guard. He looked different somehow.

“I am dreadfully sorry for my appalling behavior. I don't know what came over me. I hope I have not caused too much trouble for you. I will make it up to you and show myself out.” And with that, he turned and walked briskly to the automatic doors. The person taking the video swore softly and followed behind him. As the doors opened, the man began to run. The faint sound of an ambulance grew louder and louder. Suddenly, Erik hears screeching tires followed by a loud noise.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” a woman came running in. “He just jumped in front of the ambulance! Somebody!” The video became a shaky mess as the camera man jogged out the doors. When the video became steady and clear, it pointed down at the bloody scene right in front of the emergency entrance.

“Holy shit.” The voice sounded out of breath either from the jogging or the shock of what he was witnessing. Down below, was the body of the man who claimed he was not in control. His head was crushed from the front left wheel of the ambulance with the rest of his body twisted beneath it like a rag doll. Scott stopped the video.

“That was Donny Ruiz. A college student from N.Y.U. He was on a scholarship and was having a successful year on the baseball team. His girlfriend said he suddenly became paranoid about three weeks ago. He claimed that someone was watching him. She also claimed that he was having difficulty... in bed.” Scott finished uncomfortably. “She said he claimed that he was being told not have sex with her because it wasn't what the voice wanted.”

“He was hearing voices?”

“Just one voice. She tried to get him to go to a psychiatrist, but he told her he wasn't crazy. About one week ago, after hearing him having a conversation with himself, she called his parents. They convinced him to see someone-”

“Let me guess, was it the same doctor that saw Miss Ventura and Mr. Tate?” Erik interrupted. Scott nodded. “Yes, it was. Now I did talk to the doctor, a Dr. Moira MacTaggert, and she claims that he didn't show enough criteria to be deemed schizophrenic. She thought that maybe he was overworked from school and requested he dial back his extra activity and gave him some medication to help relax. He seemed to be doing okay when this happened.”

Erik pondered a moment, soaking up the information. He turned back to the screen and hit the rewind icon. It took him back to the moment when Donny had his strange change of behavior.

“I am dreadfully sorry for my appalling behavior.” He stopped the video and back tracked again. 

“Please! You gotta help me!” He stopped it again. “He speaks with an accent here. He's Latino, sounds Puerto Rican I think.”

“That's correct.” Scott nodded.

“But here,” Erik brought the feed to the previous part. “He loses his accent, along with a change in speech pattern and articulation.” He plays it for Scott. “Do you here that?”

“You're right, I do.”

Erik looks closer. “Then there's the eyes. They look almost as if he's in some kind of trance. They're dilated even in the bright florescent lighting.” He uses the zoom on the frozen frame of the young man's face. 

“What do you think?” Scott leans over. 

Erik stares into the screen. “I think... you might have something. It may be the work of, a telepath.”

“Really? I know that they are rare, let alone any of them with the power to control another person to that degree.”

“It's the only thing that fits.” Erik saves a copy of the video to his drive then hands the USB back to Summers. “You will need to do some follow up questions with the victim's families and witnesses. I want to interview this Dr. MacTaggert myself and see if any of these other victims had any encounters with her.”

“So you'll help me?” Scott grinned causing Erik to give him a sneer. “No, you will help me.”

Scott frowned. “What do you mean? It's my case.”

Erik snatched the file out of Scott's hands. “This falls into mutant division. I am the lead detective in this, you will accompany me. You want my help, this is how this case will go, understand?”

Scott looked like he wanted to give Erik a piece of his mind, but kept silent. Erik grinned. “That's a good boy. Now, let's get going. If we are indeed looking at a serial killer who's a telepath, this is not going to be easy. I still think some of these deaths are cut and dry suicides, but we will gather the proper evidence so eliminate them or solidify them with the others. Does Chief Howlett know you're asking me about this?” Erik stood up and grabbed his coffee mug. He headed over to the water fountain and dumped it out.

“Actually, he was the one that advised me to come to you.” Scott was right behind Erik following him like a puppy. “He told me that if anyone could help me with this case, it would be you.”

Erik huffed. “So he does have good things to say about me. Just never to my face. Alright, get back to me when you've re-interviewed the witnesses. We are treating this like a homicide case so re-adjust your questions. I will see if this Dr. Moira MacTaggert is truly benefiting the patients at Westchester Meadows Sanitarium.”

“You got it.”

Erik got a subtle chill down his spine. He wasn't sure what set it off, but it made him look over his shoulder. He saw nothing but the dark hall that led back to his office.

“Are you coming?” Scott said from the elevator, holding the door open.

“Yeah, coming.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first want to thank you all for the kudos and comments. I really appreciate the support, especially after thinking I wouldn't do this again. So I hope this story doesn't disappoint you. SO, having said that. What does the good doctor have to do with these murders? Let's find out, shall we?

**Chapter 2**

 

It was a long but pleasant drive out of the city to the facility located in the soft hills and woodland meadows that grew out west. It almost seemed like another world compared to the hard and bleak concrete of the city. As Erik coasted along the road, he went over what details he could find on Dr. Moira MacTaggert. She seemed well known in her field. She was a beautiful, dark haired woman. Her brown eyes seemed to emanate kindness and understanding on their own. A few brief videos of lectures showed her intellect and a voice that spoke with determination and insistence that more needed to be done for the patients she and her fellow colleagues treated. Still, there was something about her that Erik did not like. He tended to listen to his gut rather than think too much about something. That sometimes tended to get Erik into trouble as he would act first then ask questions later. So far, he hasn't lost a victim or botched a case up too much due to it so he had to be doing something right. He was getting that feeling with this woman. He knew if she wasn't responsible, she would know who was, whether she would be aware of it or not.  

He slowed as he neared the iron gate entrance. The gate was shut and required Erik to stop before a monitor and keypad. He pressed the intercom. 

"Hello, I am detective Erik Lehnsherr of the NYPD. I am here for an appointment with Dr. Moira MacTaggert. I called earlier this morning." He spoke loud and clear. For a brief moment, there was soft static. The security guard gave him a sour look, then scanned his clipboard. "You are out of your jurisdiction here, aren't you Mr. Lehnsherr."

"That's detective, and I am not here to arrest anybody. However, I don't mind making an acceptance for smart-ass low level security officers who have no business offering input on situations they have no part in other than opening the damn gate so I am not late." he offered him his best smile that consisted of two perfect rows of teeth almost predatory in design. Logan hated it, telling him he looked like a shark ready to feed. 

The security guard slapped his clipboard down. "Is that so? Well,  _ **Mr.**_ Lehnsherr I don't see your name on the list so I'm afraid you'll have to turn around and make another appointment."

Erik chuckled softly. "Probably because you haven't learned your alphabet properly. It would be under  _ **Detective**_ Erik Lehnsherr, but don't beat yourself up over it." With a wave of his hand, the gate creaked and began to open. The guard jumped up, alarmed. "What the hell?"

"I'll see myself in and let management know what a swell job you're doing here. You know, you may make it as a cop someday, Frank." Erik read the name plate on his chest. He continued onward, driving by the booth still flashing a smile.

"You're one those freaks, aren't you? Well, I hope they commit you in there! Asshole!" Frank shouted back.

 

He parked in the one of the few visitor parking spots and made his way up the white stone steps. It was a beautiful building. It reminded him of those manors you would see watching a period piece on the public television channel. Two wings, East and West he supposed, ivory columns with a few bits of ivy crawling up the bottoms of the farthest ones out. The walkway lined with small flowers, he had no clue what species they were nor did he care. He entered through the double doors and into a beautiful foyer. There inside, it looked a little more modern. To his right a lounge area of some sort with sofas and a fireplace that didn't seem to be in use. Above it, a flat screen television mounted on the wall played without sound, offering pictures of wildlife and nature. To his left was a desk with a slightly older woman sitting behind it. She smiled and nodded.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, I am here to see Dr. Moira MacTaggert for a four 'o clock appointment." He listened to the soft clicks of the keyboard as she looked him up.

"I see, well her office is upstairs on the third floor. Make a right and it should be the second door to the right."

He followed the instructions and made is way up to the top floor. There was an eerie stillness that made Erik wonder if there was anyone in the entire building aside from the receptionist. He made it to the room and noticed the plaque along side the doorway, 'Dr. Moira MacTaggert'.

The door was slightly ajar and he knocked softly against it.

"Hello?"

"Yes, come in." came the reply. He stepped inside and was greeting my a small, elegantly dressed woman. She wore a dark navy suit with a skirt. A small gold necklace and pearl earrings was all that accessorized her attire. She offered a handshake. "You must be the detective from New York City I spoke to earlier. You said you had an urgent matter to discuss regarding a case you are currently working on." She ushered him over to a chair in front of her desk.

"Yes, doctor. I am here because I have an unusual case with some disturbing information. I am investigating eight deaths that have happened over a period of six months. Three of these murder victims were patients of yours here at this hospital."

"I'm sorry, did you say murder victims?" Moira looked puzzled.

"Yes I did."

"I am aware of the unfortunate deaths of two of my patients, but I believe they had committed suicide. We are talking about Margret Ventura and Carl Tate."

"Don't forget about Donny Ruiz." Erik leaned forward. Moira's eyes widened. "Oh my, Donny as well? When did this happen?"

"Yesterday evening. He threw himself in front of a moving ambulance at the General Hospital Emergency entrance. Just minutes before causing a scene inside claiming he was not in control of himself. Tell me Dr. MacTaggert, in your professional opinion. Do you think this a coincidence that three people that saw you not long after you treated them end up dead days later?"

Moira took sighed and shook her head. "You think I am responsible for these deaths."

"Well, you can see how this doesn't look good. So, just to clarify things. You treated each of these victims. How about these other six?" He showed each picture, one by one of the additional people with their crime scene photos. Moira paled and looked away after he finished covering the entire top of her desk.

"Detective, these pictures are horrifying to look at. If you think that I did this to each of them, I can assure you-"

"Well I wouldn't say that you physically did this to each of them, nor would I say you were there at each crime scene coaxing them along, but perhaps doctor, you may want to re-think your career choice."

"You said they were murdered. How?"

Erik remained silent.

"Look I don't know why you would think that since they look to be suicides, and I can't tell you what was wrong with these victim's mental states, not all of them were patients here." she stopped and looked down at a few of the pictures, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Anything coming back to you, Dr. MacTaggert?"

"Actually, yes it is." She got up from her desk and walked quickly to her filing cabinet. She pulled open the middle drawer and flipped through it. "Some of those names and faces seem slightly familiar. Here it is."

She handed over a manilla folder. "I recognize a couple of names and faces because about nine months ago I helped with a government drug trial."

Erik opened the file up and scanned the first page. "What kind of drug trial?"

"It was a trial of a new drug in development by Trask Industries. It's been years in the making, ever since mutants became public knowledge. They didn't make much headway until about five years ago a medical journal came out with an article written by a very brilliant genetics professor. In it he claimed to have discovered the Mutant X gene. Sure enough, it was a gene that could be located in active mutants and potential carriers. With this knowledge, Trask industries was able to speed things along. So recently they began to set the stage for human/mutant trials."

Erik looked back up at her, not liking where this was going. "What part did you play in this trial?"

"Well, before they could start, patients had to be pre-screened before taking part. It's standard procedure. I was one of five psychiatrists chosen to help with the filtering process. We had to make sure not only could they met the physical requirements but the mental and emotional ones too. We couldn't allow any mutants or humans participate with severe judgement impairments or prejudices that could alter some of the results."

"Were Miss Ventura and Mr. Tate a part of these trials?"

"No, but they were the reason I decided to take part in it. They... were mutants. Margaret was able to synthesize and manipulate flora. In fact most of the plants you see outside on the walkway were planted by Margaret. But she was diagnosed with schizophrenia and she would have bouts of paranoia and sometimes violence, wrapping loved ones in vines and thorns. When she would get that way, she would come here and check herself in. Carl, didn't really have any ability per say, but his features were quite noticeable to the public and he would be bullied and threatened a lot. You can see from his pictures his scales were hard to miss. I thought they were beautiful but not many shared my opinion." Moira smiled sadly.

"I wanted to help them in any way that I could. So when I found out about the trial. I told them about it and they came along to the conferences as spokesmen for the drug trial. They seemed very eager to see this drug come into the market."

Erik gripped the handles of his chair in a slow clench. "What exactly did this drug claim to do?"

"It would isolate the Mutant X gene and cause it to go dormant, permanently. They said it was going to be used a cure for mutants with powers that patients deemed too dangerous to too difficult to control."

Erik stood up. "A cure? Is that what they're calling it? Are you really that stupid?"

"Detective-

"You really believe that if a drug like this were to actually work and be allowed to be on the market, that mutants would have the choice whether or not to take it?" Erik leaned over her desk, his palms pressed flatly against the gruesome images that still dressed the top of it."It would only be a matter of time before the government would make it mandatory for all mutant and carriers to take it. In fact, I don't think you understand the limits this could go to. What if it's not a cure they are really looking for, but a weapon to use against those that refused to take the drug. What if they decided they could disburse it in the air in neighborhoods and cities. What if they decided instead of subduing mutants as they live now, and decide why not prevent them from coming into existence in the first place!" Erik barked.

"I can see this upsets you, but you have to understand that there are some mutants out there that are not comfortable with these abilities and mutations. I wish they were, as I wish humans were with their feelings and abilities as well. I have no issues with mutants. I am simply trying to help my patients and their families. I think you see the worst in humans and maybe in your field and service you have reason to believe it, but I have hope that it will not come to those conditions. You must learn to trust and hope in humanity Erik. You have to be able to help humans see that mutants and humans can live together-"

"Spare me doctor, I did not make an appointment with you to discuss my hopes in humanity. I am here because someone else doesn't seem to like this drug trial either and is killing Trask lab rats." Erik sighed and sat back down. A small tension headache began to throb at his temple.

Moira nodded and began to gather the pictures in a tidy pile. "I agree, and I will help you in every way that I can. What do you need to know?"

"The names and addresses of the patients you interviewed for the trial. If possible, the names of the patients your fellow colleagues screened as well. I will need an introduction to the research team at Trask industries." Erik looked back at the folder. He opened it to the very back and saw the dissertation and research file labeled, "Mutant X Gene: The Evolution of Man and His Next Steps Forward by Professor Charles F. Xavier.  

"The names of my group are in there, I will get a hold of the others for you." Moira noticed him staring at the paper. "You should read it."

"Science is not my forte. I wouldn't get half the mumbo jumbo it speaks about." Erik closed the file and Moira chuckled. "Well, I can help with that. I happen to know the writer. He doesn't live too far from here."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it's been a while since I have spoken with him, it would be a nice way to reconnect." Moira tried to hide her smile. Erik knew it was more than a professional admiration she had for him. Still, every little bit of detail he could get on this case could benefit. Perhaps watching MacTaggert in a relaxed condition may give away any suspicious activity.

"Then let's make it a point to see this Professor Xavier."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions must be made.

**Chapter 3**

 

Erik got back to the precinct late in the evening. He really thought about calling it quits for the day, but boy scout Scott said something about exchanging information while it was still fresh in their heads. He arrived at his desk to find the rest of the Mutant Crime Division to have left but had the courtesy to leave his desk light on. He sat down and started thinking about Dr. MacTaggert's part in all of this. Perhaps she wasn't the suspect, but she was involved whether she knew it or not. A simple random drug test started a chain reaction of murder and mystery in New York. Maybe it wasn't so simple. These murders have a significant relevance. What started out as violent random "suicides" are now murders of drug trial recipients in a government sanctioned test. This was beginning to get heavy with red tape. If he wasn't careful, the feds could possibly find out and get involved and Erik knew if that were to happen...

What? Would they kill the suspect? A telepathic mutant? No, they would try to apprehend him and send him off to an unmarked sight and use him. Torture him. Dissect him. Force him to find all the mutants in the world and tag them and keep track of them. Then, with the right drug...

"Detective Lehensherr, are you down here?" Scott's voice echoed from up the hall.

"Yes. Come in."

Scott Summers strode into the office with some files in one hand and his hat under his other arm. Erik snorted at the sight of the uniform he was glad he didn't have to wear. Scott pulled up a chair and sat next to Erik's desk. The younger mutant laid his artifacts down on the wooden coffee stained surface.

"So how did it go with MacTaggert?"

"She doesn't appear to know what is going on. That may be a possible cover. However, I now have a list of potential victims."

"A list?" Scott perked up at this information. "How did you manage that?"

"Apparently, all of the victims were a part of a drug trial that went on earlier in the year. Dr. MacTaggert was one of a few psychiatrists involved with the project that was funded by Trask Industries. The trial was on a new drug that is supposed to cancel out the Mutant X gene and make it go dormant. The victims had to be evaluated before being subjected to the drug. Humans and mutants involved consisted of the following; mutants with active powers and visible mutations, passive mutant powers but visible mutations, humans with no visible mutations but carried an active Mutant X gene, and humans with no visible mutations and no active Mutant X gene. The last group most likely being the control group. They were pre-screened and approved to move forward in the trial which just recently finished. I got a hold of some names over at Trask Industries in the New York division that was in charge of the trials being done here in the city. Dr. MacTaggert is contacting the other four psychiatrists to see if she can acquire the other names. We have to see if anyone else has been targeted. If so, we will have a bigger problem on our hands seeing as it would go across state lines and the F.B.I. would have to get involved. You know how they feel about mutants." Erik leaned back in his chair.

Scott ran a hand through his hair. "Wow, and I thought I had some information."

"You mean to tell me I could be at home right now with a drink and a cigarette and not looking at you." Erik grumbled. Scott frowned. "No, we should still trade information, AND Chief wants to see us."

"Christ."

Scott cleared his throat and opened his file. "I did as you said and re-questioned the victims' families and friends. They all say the same thing. The victims were fine one day and then all of a sudden began acting out of character. When I asked them to describe the characteristics of this new personality. They said pretty much the same thing. The victims would giggle to themselves, find the most unusual and cruel news and situations amusing. The would talk to themselves at night, refrain from all social activities that they would take part in prior to the change. Paranoia would set in and they began to push loved ones away. Then there was their speech. They would talk in their normal voice, but it was altered. The family member or friend noticed it sounded articulate but detached. Any native accent that the victim may have had would suddenly not be there. It was as if whomever was controlling them didn't know how to recreate the victims accent or slang."

"Or perhaps the suspect has his own accent or way of speaking that he is trying to cover up." Erik added. Scott nodded in approval. "That makes sense too."

"So, let's split up the names on this list. Tomorrow we will search for them and see if we can find any of them that seem to be out of character. We may need more officers to follow and keep track of them. There is no way we can stay on top of all of them ourselves. I leave that up to you." Erik got up and grabbed his coat and scarf and headed out the door. Scott scrambled up his items and hurried after Erik.

"Wait, what do you mean 'leave it up to you'? Chief wants to see both of us and I can already tell you he's not going to allow more officers to follow people that may not even be a current target. That's a lot of names on that list and to follow each one would be impossible. We have to come up with a way to narrow it down. You know this." Scott joined Erik in the elevator just as the doors began to close. Erik gave him a tired grin, but with a spark of mischief in his eyes. 

"As I said, I will leave that up to you. I made the first big dent in the case by giving you your suspect's motive and potential victims, along with a suspect of interest. I am sure you didn't get where you are in rank based on your good looks alone. I am sure you can find a way to narrow the list on your own, you're a big boy." Erik could see despite the red sunglasses, there was anger burning in his eyes, still he continued. "Besides, the Chief likes you more than me. If you ask nicely, I am sure you can wrangle a few boys our way."

"Bullshit. You know as well as I do he hates my guts. It's possible he hates you almost as much as me so I don't see why we don't just go in there together like we're supposed to and get it over with." Scott growled. Erik chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I could use a good laugh right now anyway."

 

~

He took a deep breath and began to cross the street. He could see through the eye holes his breath steaming out into the cold winter air. He gloves felt tight and warm around his fingers as he reached the other side of the street and grabbed the handle bar to yank the door open. He was hit with the loud sounds of camaraderie and telephones ringing. He shuffled passed cops rushing in and out, some with coats wishing others good night, some with suspects and perpetrators in hand. Nobody gave him a single look and he wasn't even using his powers yet. His chuckle was muffled beneath the mask. How wonderful.

_Please._

He made his way to the Sergeant's desk and cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

The stern man looked up. "Yeah, wadduyah want?"

"I was just up the road when a man bumped into me and stole my great grandfather's pocket watch. It is priceless and very dear to me, please if you would be so kind-"

"Look old man, just go over there to that desk and ask to fill out a report. You'll have to describe in detail what the guy looked like, what the watch looked like, show some kind of receipt of the item belonging to you." The Sergeant sighed as he received nothing but a blank stare and a smile back. "Just go over there I'll see about getting someone to talk to you but go to that desk and start the paperwork."

"Yes, thank you very much," He leaned closer to get a look at the name tag. "Sergeant Tulley." All he got was a guttural noise and a frown as he shuffled his way to the desk he was directed to. As he made his way to the side, he took in his surroundings. He looked for the right object and saw it walking past him.

"On your way, Simpson. You lucked out this time jackass, but I swear next time-" the officer unlocking the handcuffs was shoved back once they were off by a menacing looking man who spun around and sneered back at the cop.

"Yeah, you guys are nothing but some mutant lovin' lackeys. You know those weirdos don't need no protectin'. I'm the victim here and I'll do whatever it takes to protect myself!"

"Does that mean assaulting young females that don't look your way when you cat call them?"

"Fuck you, man! Fuck all of you!" the angry man replied walking backwards toward the door. He lifted both hands and gave them both fingers.

It was the perfect object for his demonstration and it couldn't have been planned more perfectly. Just as this exchange was happening, the elevator doors opened and his detective walked out with a younger, red headed officer. They seemed to be deep in conversation or they were used to such displays going on in the precinct they just didn't care to look at the spectacle. Either way, he didn't like the officer being so close with his detective. But that was not to detract from what he came here to do. He sat and took another deep breath. He could smell that scent of gunpowder and something slightly sour in the air. Possibly from the people they brought in from the streets or the cops themselves that were working around the clock unable to catch a break for a shower. Well, they certainly weren't going anywhere now. He pressed his finger to his right temple.

_Please!_

The vulgar man stopped as if he were frozen in place, not even budging as someone else bumped into him quite roughly trying to squeeze by. He made him lower his hands slowly as he took in the environment. He saw the officer nearest to the frozen object and noticed his back was turned, writing something down on a desk, his weapon within reach. 

"Grab it." He murmured under his mask.

In a flash, there was pandemonium as the weapon was snatched and the object jumped onto the closest desk. Everyone in the room drew their weapons but froze as the gun was placed against the object's temple. He watched in excitement. The front of his pants grew tight as his arousal kicked in at the sight of his detective. Not showing any sign of shock or panic. The detective kept his eyes locked on the object on the desk. Now, it was time to introduce himself.

"Good evening to you all. I would just like to take this moment to say 'what a pleasure it is to do business with you'. Now most of you I don't care to see ever again, but a few of you and I will be engaging in a little dance of death." Through the object's eyes, he locks eyes with the detective. "You are already on your way to the dance floor."

The young man whispered but he could read what his lips said and the detective's thought at the same time. "It's him!"

His grin matched the grin on his object. "Yes, it's me." He made the object's finger remove the safety and begin to pull the trigger when the detective lifted his hand. He gasped at the sight of the gun hovering in the air and then making it's way into the detective's hand. 

_Beautiful. Magnificent. Breath taking._

He almost lost control of the situation at this point. The other officers came in to try and subdue his object, but he recovered from his moment of amazement and froze them. Just them. The detective and his protege looked around in confusion. He smiled again, a tremor of pleasure rippled through him to his groin. He had best be careful or he would let go too soon. Now was not the time for release.

"Ah ah ah, I'm not finished yet. Detective, may I ask you to dance with me?" the object held out his hand to the gorgeously tall man. 

"What do you want? What are you trying to prove?" He asked disregarding the hand.

"I'll show you. I want to show you how powerful we can be. You and I are not that different. I can tell. You can see the end game just like I do. You have already seen so much. I know together, we can put a stop to this pathetic show of dominance of the human race and become the better species. We already are the better species. Those are your words, not mine. Spoken at a rally years ago on a campus where you first made an impression on me."

The detective gasped, finally showing a moment of surprise. He knew he would be.

"I do hope we meet again soon."

The detective regained his composure. "We will. When I arrest you."

His object reflected his laugh. "Oh, my dear detective. So confident that's how it will be. Our first physical encounter should be given much more grandeur. Much more significance. I promise one day it will come to that. For now, however..." He made his object place to fingers together and hold them up against his temple where the gun used to be. "I will wait for our first contact, which will be a while I'm sure. You will have quite a mess on your hands for now."

He focused his power and positioned his mind in the right spot.

_Please! Please! Please!_

"Boom." 

The object's eyes rolled back into it's head as the body collapsed. He let go of the rest of the bodies as the same time. Some woman screamed as she watched the object's head collide with the floor, a splatter of blood danced across the old linoleum tiles as two cops reached the body to check for a pulse. He decided now was the time to leave. 

"He's dead!"

"What the hell?"

"It wasn't that far of a fall. How could he be dead?"

"Fuck that! I couldn't move! Why couldn't anybody move?"

He shuffled back over to the Sergeant's desk. "Excuse me, sir?"

Sergeant Tulley had a bug eyed look on his face. "Wh-what the hell just happened? What the hell do you want right now? Can't you see we were just attacked? Nobody cares about your stupid watch! Get out of here old fart!" 

"I think I would be better off looking for it myself with a reward. Thank you and please catch whomever did this horrendous act." Sergeant Tulley clearly had no interest in his words as he began hustling away before he could finish speaking. As he shuffled his way out the door, he could here the detective trying to shout over the chaos.

"Lock the doors! Don't let anybody out!"

He exited out into the crisp cold air, glad to have removed himself from that sour smelling room. He shuffled along until he felt comfortable he was far enough away and headed around a corner. He walked quickly toward an underpass before removing the rubber mask. Making sure there were no cameras. He picked up a trash bag by the pillar and opened it. He began changing his clothes then threw the mask in and closed it. He then walked out at a leisurely pace carrying his items until he hailed a cab. He got in and told the driver to take him to the train station. In the silence he thought about everything that went down and chuckled to himself. That could not have worked more perfectly. Now all he would have to do is wait for the detective to make the next move. He could barely contain his excitement in the police station knowing that his detective could control metal. He knew he was a mutant from his past encounter with him, but he didn't realize what his mutation was, nor how capable he was at using it. 

"Did you keep that from me on purpose?"

"Did ya say something?" the cab driver barked back. How dare he interrupt.

"Ignore me and keep driving. I'm not paying you and you'll forget I was even here in this cab. You will dispose of my effects and make sure to leave nothing behind, yes?"

"Yes." Came the dead reply.

"Good." Right now was the best time for him to devise his future plans. It was quiet in his mind since the kill and he had complete control. Each kill gave him more and more power, more fuel for his feeding. The dance had begun and he was ready to lead his dear detective down the path of shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken me a while to upload another chapter. I am excited to finally bring Erik and Charles together and hopefully start some lovely cat and mouse games.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's try this again. Introductions are made part 2.

**Chapter 4**

 

Erik couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. It was almost magical the way everyone had frozen and he and Scott were given a ticket to a secret show of violence and pure madness. When reality came crashing back into the room, Erik tried to recover fast and get control of the situation, but the chaos was too overpowering. Screams and shouts suddenly bombarded the room. Cops were still pointing their guns in the air where the last victim of the telepathic killer had stood. Others began panicking, thinking that they couldn't breathe or speak. A few men had been stuck in awkward positions when they froze and the release sent them sprawling into furniture and onto the floor. Two cops closest to the body grabbed it and turned it over. There was an empty stare back and no movement from his chest. 

"He's dead!" one of them shouted. "What the hell?"

"It wasn't that far of a fall. How could he be dead?"

The noise was mind numbing and Erik could barely hear himself as he had shouted, "Lock all the doors! Don't let anybody out!"

Nobody took notice as the rest of the officers caught up to speed of what had just happened. Scott had sprung into action, running over to the victim on the floor. A small pool of blood oozed out from underneath his young man's head. "Don't touch the body anymore. Get Hank up here! Sergeant Tulley I want this place locked down. We are going to need video surveillance footage of what just happened. Everybody! We need everybody to calm down! This is a crime scene and we need to get a clear idea of what went down!"

Erik had to hand it to Summers, he sure knew how to take control.

"If anyone is feeling ill or still under some sort of paralysis, sit down where you are, medical help is on the way." Scott walked back over to Erik. "What do you think? Is he in here? Close by?"

Erik scanned the room and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I think some people left before we could lock it down. Shit." He felt a wave of adrenaline wash over him. He began trying to replay the scene again in his head, trying to remember all of the faces in the room. He cursed himself for not looking before. He was almost mesmerized at the display the killer had put on. It had all happened so fast.

"Erik! Are you listening to me?" Scott grabbed his shoulder and gave it a firm shake. Erik jerked out of his grip and snapped back. "Get the hell off me! I'm trying to think!"

"Chief's here." He pointed and Erik followed its direction to the eternally grouchy and gruff man that looked out of place in a uniform and yet still wore it with pride. Chief Logan Howlett. Erik knew the man was much older than himself but he looked about the same age as the detective. That was due to his mutation of regenerative tissue. Logan caught their eyes and with the arch of one eyebrow they knew exactly what it meant.

Get your asses to his office, stat.

Erik gritted his teeth as they made their way over. He pushed Scott ahead of him. "Ladies first."

"Hey!" He hissed back. "Watch it, Erik!"

"Both of you get in here and shut the door!" Chief barked back at them.

The two men came into the office and were greeted by the smell of cigars and leather. Erik looked up at the ceiling to see the demolished fire alarm sensor just barely hanging onto the tile. It had been that way for quite  a few years. Scott closed the door and was about to sit down when Logan held out his hand.

"You're not going to be in here that long Summers. I want answers and then I want both of you out of here and looking for the perpetrator responsible for all this shit. Your case with the suicides/not suicides will have to wait."

"They are the same thing, sir." Scott straightened back up and walked closer to the desk. "He's the one responsible for the victims killing themselves. He just did that to show that he knows we're looking into them."

"Which means we may be looking at someone here on the force." Erik added making both Scott and Logan stare back in shock.

"Whoa." Scott blurted out.

"Now hold on, Erik. Let's not jump to conclusions here." Logan reached for a half smoked cigar and began lighting it up.

"I'm just saying this killer knew to freeze everyone except Summers and myself. We haven't been seen together outside of this precinct so no one on the outside would know we were partnering together on this. It may be just a coincidence, but also a possibility too." Erik shrugged nonchalantly. Scott frowned at him. "How can you think that it could be one of us? We've got enough problems as it is as human cops and civilians despising us. You really think we would go after our own like this? What if you were being tailed from earlier?"

Now it was Erik's turn to scowl. "So you think it's my fault? That I was sloppy in my work and announced to the world I was going to go looking for a telepathic killer? What about you? You started this investigation. How careful were you before I got involved?"

"He could have followed you from the hospital." Scott countered.

"He could have followed **you** from the victims' homes." Erik returned.

"He said he met you before, some campus. You spoke to him about mutant superiority or something."

"I have spoken to many people about mutants on many a campus in my past."

"What if it's because of something you said at one of these meetings that started this whole thing?" Scott's voice grew louder and his cheeks red with anger.

"Both of you knock it off!" Logan growled.

"We know why he's doing this. It has to do with Trask and the so called 'cure'. It has nothing to do with attacking cops. He's just playing cat and mouse with us." Erik stared back at Scott with a cold grin. "And if he was inspired by me somehow, I'm flattered."

"You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"

Scott couldn't have moved fast enough even if he knew it was coming. Erik's right fist connected with Summers' left cheek and almost knocked him sideways. Before Scott could retaliate, the 'old man' was between them both, claws unsheathed and aimed at each one of them. "I said knock it off!"

Erik's words were laced with venom. "Logan, get those things out of my face. You know you don't want threaten me with something metal and malleable, do you?"

"I will hold them up as long as you continue with this nonsense. We are not looking into any cops. We are not accusing one another with petty shit. We are not going to let this bastard get away with any of this! Why? Because we are intelligent, mature men with good looks and common fucking sense!" Logan looked at Erik, then to Scott. "Professionals. Am I right?"

Scott began fixing his uniform, looking down at the ground. "Right."

"Erik?"

"Sure, professionals." Erik unclenched his fists, letting his power subside. He had been ready to lift Logan and throw him across the room if need be.

"Good. Now tell me what you got on this case and please tell me you have suspects that are not in this station." Logan retracted his claws but did not move from between them. Scott began explaining everything to Logan.

Erik let him, he wasn't too interested in the retelling of the case. He decided to think about what he had learned about the killer. He was a showman and wanted to impress Erik. A dance he had called it. He also knew he was going to get caught and made no attempt to boast getting away with it without being apprehended. He wanted to meet Erik face to face at some point. Erik had to admit to a slight wave of excitement in this. This was a powerful mutant. To be able to freeze an entire room with over twenty cops plus civilians was a feat. What else could this person do? He could just make Erik come to him if he wanted to. Instead, he wanted Erik to seek him out voluntarily. He wanted to be hunted, and wanted Erik to be the hunter.

"What do you mean there's no surveillance cameras in there?" Scott's voice pierced through Erik's thoughts and brought him back into the stale room.

"I mean what I said. The cameras don't work. They haven't been on since last May, sorry kid." Logan took a puff on his cigar.

"How can that be? How safe is that? Look at what just happened! This is exactly why we are supposed to have cameras! What haven't they been fixed?" Scott threw his hands up.

"Because there's no funding for it."

"Why?" Scott almost whined this word out like a child.

"Because it's damn hard getting funding for this precinct. We are one of two precincts in this stinkin' city that allows mutants to be cops and we house the majority of them. So for some strange reason when it comes time for those checks to head our way, several zeros fall off on their way here and we have to prioritize where the remainder goes. That's why. I wish there was some other reason for it but that is just the way it is. We're lucky to be getting anything at all." Logan let out a sigh.

"There's been talks to shut us down and shuffle the some officers elsewhere. Which I'm sure doesn't include us. The only thing keeping us open is our case success rate. So," Logan walked back over to his seat and sat back down. "You two are going to bring this guy down. Make us look good and keep our reputation spotless. That means not looking into one of our own. If internal affairs hears about that, it will be the beginning of the end."

"We have no reason to look at one of our own here. All mutant cops have to reveal their mutations in their personnel files. I'm sure if we had a telepath on our team, we would have known by now." Scott said looking toward Erik.

_Is this a bad time? I have been waiting here for two hours and I would really like to help with the situation out here._

The soft female voice echoed in Erik's head and he realized he wasn't the only one to hear it. They all looked towards the window looking out into the main floor. A pretty young red head in a black beat cop uniform was peeking back at them. 

"Oh, uh." Logan held up a finger and she nodded and sat back down in a plastic chair next to a fake potted plant.

"Was that... Did you all here that?" Scott stuttered.

"No Scott, I'm sure the strange lady voice was only in your head." Erik grumbled. "And what was that about not having a telepath on our team?"

"That's Jean Gray. She's a rookie cop transferring to our precinct. In fact, I think she will be a great help to your investigation." Logan got up and extinguished his cigar.

"Hold up, I don't think we should let some rookie on a case like this. Besides, she could be the killer." Erik crossed his arms in defiance.

"Erik! Come on!" Scott said exasperated.

"She just transferred here? How convenient."

"She was working at the other precinct when an incident happened. She just wants a fresh start where she can work hard and do some good." Logan brought out a very old can of air freshener and got a few spurts out of the dying can before chucking it into the bin.

"An incident?" Scott inquired but got shut down with another eyebrow arch. "She's a good cop. Finished at the top of her class at the academy. If you want her help," Logan offered, "I can arrange it. I highly suggest you get all the help you can. This case sounds like it could be bigger than we anticipated. Hank will be working on the latest victim's body. I'll make sure it takes priority. Right now, both of you look like you could use some rest. Go home and start fresh tomorrow. Hank should have most if not all of the autopsy done by then." Logan opened the door and gestured with his head for them to leave.

Again,both of them got the message and made their way out. As they left, Erik shot a glance at the young woman who in turn looked back at him warily. She entered and closed the door behind her. The main floor seemed to be getting back to some semblance of order. Scott let out a sigh.

"I can't believe we have no tape."

"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll be back together again rather soon." Erik shot another look back at Logan's office.

"Hey, come on. You as well as I know that serial killers are usually men." Scott shook his head. "Logan said she's a good cop."

"You really are naive, Summers. If Logan told you Santa Claus existed would you believe him?"

"You can't just accuse her because she's a telepath. You need evidence Erik."

"She was here."

"She couldn't move like the rest of us."

"You don't know that. You didn't know she was even here until now. She could have been faking it." Erik stood a few feet away from the door watching the silent conversation happening inside. Logan noticed his gaze and got up to shut the blinds.

"You heard what Chief said, we can't look into cops without suspicion. Plus she's a mutant like us. What if it starts the non-mutants on a paranoia witch hunt in here? It's just too hot a subject. Besides, what would be her connection with Dr. MacTaggert and Trask? Do you recognize her from one of your many campus talks? If she was a suspect, she would have met you-"

"And probably erased my memory of it somehow. This is a strong mutant we are dealing with here." Erik finished. Scott sighed. "You really won't let this go, will you?"

"I just don't want to leave anything out. She may not have anything to do with this case, but you can't say it's not suspicious." Erik turned back to look at Scott. "Sometimes you have to go with your gut. My gut tells me she's important. I just don't know how."

A loud buzz came on the intercom. "Lock down is over. I repeat, Lock down is over."

"Well, I need a drink." Erik walked over to where he had laid his coat and hat. Scott tilted his head. "The Underground?"

"Alone."

"Oh." Scott sounded slightly let down. "Well, don't get too drunk. We need to be back early to get the autopsy report and split up the names. I'll try and come up with some way to-"

"Good night, Summers." Erik cut him off and began walking out.

"Yeah, 'night." Scott grabbed his items just as Chief's door opened back up. He looked back in time to lock eyes with the rookie cop. Well she wouldn't know his eyes but something told him hers were green.

She smiled and let out a soft chuckle. Scott's brow furrowed. She walked by him.

"They are."

She picked up a cardboard box full of office supplies and headed over to an empty desk in the back. Scott let out a huff of air. "Wow."

~

Erik thought about going to the sleazy bar that most cops headed to when they wanted to drink their troubles away, but the thought of being in public after what had occurred made him decide to drink in the safety of his own private walls. He entered his apartment and was greeted by a sparsely decorated interior. Erik wasn't someone that required many trinkets or creature comforts. A bed, a roof, and a drink was all he really needed. He owned a t.v. but it rarely came on. A few books and an old menorah were the only objects in his metal cabinet by the window. He owned one plate, one bowl, and one set of utensils with a few pots and pans that didn't see much use as it was easier to eat out by himself. He hung up his winter coat and hat and made his way to the kitchen cabinet. Opening up the wooden door to find his go to bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass.

His phone buzzed in his coat pocket against some change and reached over to grab it. He had a voice mail.

"Hello Detective Lehnsherr, this is Moira MacTaggert. I wanted to let you know I got in touch with the Professor and I have scheduled a meeting for tomorrow morning. If it's possible, would you care to join us so that we can discuss the Mutant X gene and it's correlation in the Trask studies? It may help you in catching your suspect. I really hope this helps. Bye."

"Great. As if I didn't have enough on my plate. I have to meet some old fart and talk science."

It's not as if he had to go, but maybe a look into what started this drug trial might be a push in the right direction. If he could find out why it was happening, it would give him more insight into the killer's mind. Erik knew the suspect  was upset about the drug. He had to have the same ideas Erik had as to what the government would want with a drug like that. He had to have been an activist at some point, if he still wasn't one right now. Erik thought back to his last days in college, when he was part of the Brotherhood. A community of mutants who spoke up against the suppression and segregation of mutants. Sometimes they took action, but only if it was for a good cause and worth getting locked up for a few days. No one got hurt severely, just enough to leave a lasting impression. Those were some wild days. Before he even thought about joining the force, he was determined, seeking justice, albeit recklessly. Always letting his emotions get the better of him. Not that it didn't happen now. His parents were always scolding him, worrying about him, and bailing him out.

"You are not an animal, so stop acting like one. You know what they do to wild animals, schatz? They put them in cages, poke them, prod them, and put them down. I don't want that for you and neither does your father. Stop getting into trouble and learn to do something with your passion. There are other ways to help." His mother pinched his ear that day as if he were still ten years old. Erik couldn't help but blush with shame at the memory. He felt a slight prickle behind his eyes as the sad memory came back to him. "Mother."

It wasn't long after that talk he was alone in this world. He had gotten called to the administrations office one morning and he thought he was going to be scolded again for another Brotherhood protest gone haywire, but no. A gruff looking man in a trench coat and an unlit cigar had greeted him in the dean's office.

"I'm sorry kid."

Even with those few words, Erik knew what had happened. He listened as Detective Howlett gave him the details of their murder. They had apprehended the suspect and he even confessed to the crime, but it didn't make up for what had been taken from Erik. The only people he had ever loved.

How close had Erik been to becoming a murderer? He remembered how angry he was. How he wanted nothing more than to go to the police station, find the man who did it, and skewer him with every iron bar in his own prison cell. He had wanted to find every human with hate in their hearts for mutants and destroy them. What had stopped him from falling down that black hole? Logan had helped a little with that. He got in a good word for him at the academy, but he wasn't sure what made him decide to give humanity another chance.

By now the liquor was kicking in and Erik decided to let these memories rest for the time being. He didn't bother getting into his sleep wear and simply removed all of his clothing and slipped under the thick covers. Despite it being the dead of winter, he liked his rooms cold. It reminded him of the feel of metal. The covers of his bed would keep him just warm enough. Erik always thought he didn't deserve to be comfortable. He would always felt the need to be unsettled, displaced, or out of sync in some way in life. Being comfortable meant your guard was down. And now, Erik would sleep lightly. With a telepathic killer on the loose, even his dreams would have to be guarded.

~

When Erik awoke the next morning, he called Scott to tell him he would be late coming in. He decided he needed to spend a little more time away from the station and took up Moira's offer.

"Great! We'll meet at a nice little cafe here in Westchester. It's not as far as the hospital and it will be away from the bustle and crowds of the city. I'll send you the address." Moira sounded genuinely excited and Erik felt it wasn't over his affair.

Still it would be a quiet drive and a chance to prepare for the road ahead. He got a few push ups and crunches in before hopping in and out of the shower, got dressed, jumped into his car and headed out of the city limits. It wasn't difficult to find the small coffee shop that was about an hour outside the Big Apple. He pulled up to the front and got out of the car. There were a few cars but it looked fairly empty. A couple of the cars had to belong to the employees. One luxury vehicle seem to have a chauffeur sitting patiently inside, reading a paper. He peered into the shop. He couldn't see Dr. MacTaggert but it was difficult to see all the way to the back from the outside.

"Well, here we go." Erik muttered to himself and opened the door. He was greeted by the rich smell of coffee and pastry. A small bell attached to the door chimed as it shut behind him. Erik looked around but he still couldn't see the slender figure of the gentle doctor. He made his way back to where there were a few booths sat that could be hiding their owners. When he reached them he was startled by a lovely voice from across the seas.

"You must be Erik. I've heard quite a bit about you from my dear friend Moira."

Erik spun around to face the voice and found he couldn't find his voice ready for a reply. He was stunned by a beautiful, youthful looking face smiling back at him. Dark wavy locks barely tamed framed a round lightly freckled face and lips so red Erik wondered if they tasted like cinnamon candy. But it was his eyes that seem to hold Erik in place. They were the brightest, boldest blue he had ever seen.

"Would you like a seat?" The English man gestured to the seat across from him. Still Erik couldn't trust his voice, obliged and lowered himself into the dark mahogany booth. 

"I take it you are a coffee kind of man. I went ahead and placed the order for you."

"When did you do that?" Erik finally found his voice.

"When you were standing outside wondering if you wanted to join in a discussion about something lengthy and dull." He pointed to the mirror on the wall where he had a perfect view of Erik's car.

"But I really must tell you what I study isn't dull at all, but very interesting. Mutations are fantastic in a sense that each mutation, in each individual, despite having similarities in powers and looks, are all unique. Not a single one exactly the same. For instance, levitation, a very groovy mutation, may not be the same for every mutant that can levitate. Some use a force of energy, others, it is the ability to displace the air around them, and others-"

"I'm sorry, but what is going on here?" Erik interrupted. The man opposite of him looked slightly hurt.

"Well, I thought you came to hear about my paper and to discuss the current events with it's use in a government trial. You are Detective Erik Lehnsherr, are you not?"

"I am."

"Then what seems to be troubling you, my friend?" The waiter came by and place a hot cup of coffee in front of Erik and a steaming cup of tea in front of his company. Erik waited until they were alone again.

"Friend? Look, I am here to get some information that will help me with a case I am working on, I'm trying to get a Ph. D."

"Oh, I'm sorry." A small pout formed on those lush lips of his and Erik felt some of his bite dissipate.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't think I was prepared to see someone your age to be an expert in the field of genetics I guess."

"Well, genetics is still considered to be a young field Detective. And I'm hardly a school boy."

Erik relaxed back into the seat. "Please, call me Erik."

With this, all sadness was swept away and that smile made it's way back much to Erik's liking. "Erik. I am Charles. Charles Xavier. It is wonderful to meet you." He reached out for his hand and Erik gave it. His hand met and for a moment he felt a shock that zipped all the way to his chest.

"Sorry, I must have dragged my feet on the carpet." Charles chuckled. "Forgive me, I should have introduced myself sooner. I was just so excited to meet with you. I hear that my work could help you out with your investigation. Moira told me about those terrible deaths that were happening to her patients and must say I am truly saddened by such news."

"Speaking of, where is Dr. MacTaggert?" Erik looked around. He had assumed she had stepped into the ladies' room.

Charles gave him a sheepish look. "Well, I'm afraid she was called away on some kind of medical business. She said that she didn't want that to stop us from meeting and I am sure you are very busy with your case so," He left the end of his sentence unfinished, but Erik nodded.

"I see." There went his second glance at the doctor.

"Now I know I'm not as beautiful to look at as my dear Moira is, but I hope I can entertain you a bit while I give you a crash course in mutant genetics." Charles grinned as he removed the tea bag eloquently with his spoon.

"There's no reason you need to entertain me at all, I just need the facts." Erik took a sip of his drink. He was glad it wasn't some flavored bean, just simple black coffee.

"If I gave you just the facts, you'd fall face forward into your cup. It can be a little lengthy."

"I thought you said it wasn't." Erik smirked. Charles returned the look. "No, I said it wasn't dull. I can make it very interesting if you let me."

Erik wasn't sure what was going on here, but it felt almost as if he was being flirted with. "Really?"

"Oh yes. I know that if I were to get you back to my office. I bet I could tell you all about your genetic history, where you came from, lineage, dominant and recessive traits, and I must say your eyes are a spectacular shade of blue."

"You're one to talk." Erik blurted out. His eyes shot down at his cup, taking notice of his own reflection gazing back in the dark liquid. A low chuckle.

"You like my eyes, Erik?"

Erik doubled down on his play. "Actually it's your lips that intrigue me." He glanced up to see what response would come of his confession. Charles' smile was almost sinful. "I think this conversation has taken a slight detour. Perhaps we could back track a little and get the business part out of the way. Then we could make our way back to this sometime later."

All he could do was nod. What was wrong with him? This was no time to be picking up a guy. An attractive guy at that.

_Stop it, Erik._ He told himself.

He took another gulp of coffee and tried to get back to the case. "So you wrote this paper about five years ago. Did you know at the time what this information would lead to?"

"No, I knew that sooner or later someone would have found it. There were others looking for the cause of mutations. I just wanted to make sure that people knew that humans and mutants, though, one more evolved than the other, were still related. When I say more evolved, I don't mean for it to sound elitist or anything, I simply mean an advancement in the genetic footprint. Mutants are still very close to humans. In fact, I wanted this paper to show that we are all very much alike. There is evidence in there stating that humans such as that waiter over there," Charles nodded in the direction of the young man cleaning off the counter. " could be a parent of future offspring mutants. They are called carriers. Carriers look like everyone else, but they have an active Mutant X gene. They will never develop powers of any kind, nor will they look different in their outward appearance, but they could still be considered mutants in this case."

Charles looked away this time as he spoke. "I took up this crusade to find out what caused mutations because of my step-brother. He hated mutants. Every time he saw someone with powers or a physical alteration, he would say something hateful or cruel to them. He even attacked one of them. After that, I couldn't stand it. So I sought out everything I could find on genetics, to show him that they weren't so different than he thought."

"By the time I got my degree and published my paper, Cain suffered an unfortunate accident. I never got to prove it to him. So now I try to help others like him, to see that there is no need for such hatred."

"How's that working out for you?" Erik gave a joyless grin.

"I know, it's not as easy as it sounds on paper. Still, I have hope."

Erik gave a dry laugh. "Now you sound like MacTaggert."

"We both want to believe we can better. We have to. If we don't, then everything will collapse and this world could see an event so frightening, it could mean the very extinction of all life, humans, mutants, and everything in between."

Erik nodded. "So, do you know what Trask Industries found in your research that has them on the fast track to their so called cure?"

"Yes, but it's hard to sum up in technical terms. Just know that once you know how to locate and understand the function of the gene, with the right chemicals and engineering, I imagine it can be attacked and deactivated, just like cancer cells on their genetic level."

"Did Trask Industries ever come to you directly?"

"Yes, they tried to hire me. I declined."

"Why?"

Charles shook his head with a sad smile."I could just tell that their reasoning and feelings for such for finding this drug were not transparent. There was no kindness in their words, no compassion. They made it sound like it was a task, not a effort to aid those who were afraid of themselves and of hurting others. I tried explain that my findings were not to cause people to hunt others down but to look within themselves, but I could tell those words fell on deaf ears."

"So how did you feel about hearing Trask's advancement into human/mutant trials?" Erik asked this to gauge Charles' emotions, but he also was growing fond of listening to his voice.

"I'm not pleased about it. I don't think this drug is necessary. However, there is little I can do about it right now. We don't know if it will work or not. If it gets off the ground, the next step will be getting it approved. When they go before the FDA, I would like to go to D.C. and inform the administration of the consequences of such a drug and with some help with others in various fields of medicine, we may be able to make a case against it. To be honest, I'm not sure if that will work either." Charles leaned in closer.

"Erik, I feel you are very connected to this subject. You feel sympathy for mutants, don't you? Did you or do you know some?"

"What makes you ask that?" Erik drained the rest of his cup and felt the hands on his watch state that it was time to close this conversation down.

"I don't know, call it a feeling."

"I do know some mutants. I don't know if you are aware of this but my station houses the most mutant cops on the East coast."

"So their well being is important to you. I have met many mutants during my research and still keep in touch with them from time to time. I am always amazed at their resilience and ability to endure whatever comes their way. I wish acceptance would find it's way into the hearts of everyone so that they could understand just how much we could accomplish together as one."

They sat in silence for a moment and Erik wished he had the ability to stop time. He longed to stay with this man for the rest of the day. His presence seem to give off a warm glow of familiarity and a small glimmer of home. Funny how that seemed to be on his mind lately. First the memory of his parents, now this. Charles seemed to lost in thought as well. As if a conversation with himself was passing over his face, but in a flash it was gone. He smiled softly back at Erik.

"I meant what I said about later. If you still want to talk, about other things, I would love to meet you again. I am very curious about you and the life of a detective. Is it really like what's written in those gritty novels at the bookshop?" Charles gave a sly smile and Erik couldn't help but laugh. "I wouldn't know, I don't read detective novels. I can tell you my life's not that interesting, aside from the unusual case from time to time."

They both got up at the same time. Erik began pulling out his wallet, but Charles laid a hand on his arm. "No, no. This one's on me. I had you come all the way out here to bend your ear. You really didn't have to-" Erik stopped him.

"I wanted to. You gave me a little break from the fast pace day I had yesterday to break neck speed of a day I'll have today. Thank you for all your information and your time. Uh," Erik fumbled around in his jacket until he came up with what he was looking for. "Here's my card. If you have anything else that comes to mind, it's my cell phone number. I have it on me all the time so, you know, just call and I'll answer." He didn't know why he was sounding so awkward all of a sudden.

Charles gave another chuckle. "I love the thought of having you at my beck and call detective. I shall try to refrain from calling you at obscene hours of the night."

"Believe me, I'll probably be awake. Actually, I wouldn't mind that."

Charles raised his eyebrows in interest.

"I mean, about what you said earlier. About talking later, and meeting up. I'm not sure when my next bout of free time will be but-" Erik was stumbling over his words so he just gave up. Charles didn't seem to mind.

"I would like that very much. I will call you tomorrow night. That should give you enough time to get things done," he stepped closer to Erik as he slipped his pea coat on, "and give you a little bit of time to think about what you'd like to discuss. Perhaps you may even miss me a little."

Erik grinned. "Hmm, I guess we'll see who misses who then."

"Until then, goodbye Erik." Charles walked away, depositing a few bills at the counter before leaving the warm, cozy shop. Erik walked out after a moment looking around outside to see the fancy black car drive away with a passenger in the back.

"I wonder if he's got a license." Erik wondered. "Or if he's just got the money to spare."

What a strange morning. No Moira, no old geezer in a lab coat spouting gibberish, but a good cup of coffee, and a possible date with a handsome devil.

"And no closer to finding a suspect, you dick." Erik muttered to himself. He had to shake it off and get his head back in the game. His phone chimed with text from Summers.

Get. Over. Here.

Erik sighed and got into his car. He knew it was going to be a long way to go before he would get to hear his Professor's soothing voice again. Wait, **his** professor? When did that happen?

"You're losing it Lehnsherr. Get over it and get back to the station." Still, it was another quiet drive back and he knew his thoughts weren't going to be all about the case. No, with that bright blue sky of the morning in full effect, he knew those eyes would follow him all the way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Holidays will do that. I am glad to get back to this story. Hopefully, with some free time coming my way I will update sooner next time.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

The door closed with heavy thud. The sound echoed throughout the empty house. Well, it wasn't really a house. The dark wood and stone that made up Westchester Manor still maintained its polish and shine despite the lack of attention since he disposed of the help years ago. He allowed a small amount of light in through the foyer windows, but every other window was blacked out. He hated the light. It was such a drain just going out into the morning but it he couldn't pass up the opportunity to finally be face to face with the mutant hunting him. He let out a soft chuckle.

"Well now, what do we think of him?" He spoke aloud. He loved the sound of his voice.

"I think this is going to be a wonderful little game. He's so alert and suspicious, oh it will be so rewarding when he finds out." He took off his coat and tossed it onto the coat rack. It stuck and he clapped his hands in success.

"I think we'll give him and his little dog some time to get acquainted with Trask before we kill some more. There's no need to rush this just yet." We strode into the library room and stopped in front of a full length mirror. Even in the shade, he could make out his reflection. Charles grinned.

"Now that I now how he feels about me, it won't be so difficult getting to know him. He's hasn't changed much since The Brotherhood, but I must find out his secrets, his fears." He leaned in closer towards the glass. "And you are going to do this for me." he whispered to it. He blew a kiss which returned the gesture automatically in sync with him.

He walked further into the room to the desk and turned on the lamp. The soft glow was enough light for him to tolerate and he opened the first drawer to pull out his folder. It held the names of the trial patients that he was able to get out of Dr. MacTaggert's mind without her knowledge of the incident. Along with this was research on Trask Industries and the infamous man who ran it, Bolivar Trask. He flipped passed all of this and went to the back of the pile to pull out a new addition to his work. While he was waiting for his moment at the police station, he was able to hijack one of those inferior creatures to gain access to the personnel files. He memorized everything he needed and when he got home had wrote it all down. He sat down and spoke aloud.

"Detective Erik Lehnsherr, joined the force ten years ago. Mutation on file: Metalotelekinesis/Magnetism. Decorated officer and promoted to detective six years ago and passed on being promoted once. Hmm, interesting. Parents murdered by Anti-Mutant extremist, suspect caught and found guilty. You didn't even get a chance to exact revenge on him. Oh you poor thing, you must feel so tormented working with those horrible things. They don't deserve you my dear."

Charles glanced briefly at the smaller note on the red-headed . "Lieutenant Scott Summers, joined the force five years ago. Mutation on file: Ocular Energy Blasts. Promoted to Sergeant after two years! Looks like we have a real boy scout on our hands. I bet he pisses you off a lot my dear detective. Promoted to Lieutenant just this year. Well, you know what they say about those that burn brightest." Charles slapped the file shut. "They don't burn for long."

_Please._

Charles groaned, "I really don't want to start so soon. Don't make me." He rubbed his temple. "IF we work together on this, I won't have to kill again so soon. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

He got up and began making his way to his bedroom. "A small nap and then more planning. NO dreams." He climbed the steps to the second floor and found his room. "I hate the way you see the world."

Silence.

Charles nodded. "Good. Until then my dear detective." Charles laid down and entered a dreamless sleep.

~

 

Erik arrived at the precinct just as Scott was texting his phone for the fifth time. He didn't bother answering it as he knew where to find his annoying partner. He made his way to forensics and entered without knocking.

"Everybody relax, I'm here." He grumbled.

Dr. Hank McCoy looked up startled from his clipboard and Scott stood up from his chair beside the high tech computer and a huff of annoyance. Dr. McCoy looked like a normal human being for most of the time, but he too was a mutant. Somehow he had made a serum that allowed him look human for the most part. But if you were to anger him enough, the serum couldn't keep up with his metabolism and out would emerge the blue beast he truly was. Erik had to admit to provoking him a few times just to see it happen but he had also developed a respect for the young man. Erik knew a lot of money went into the forensics department and despite his frustration on the lack of resources in his area, if it wasn't for McCoy, many of the cases, especially the mutant investigations, would go unsolved. Even as one of the youngest employees in the station, Hank McCoy could find the smallest pieces of evidence that could help you find your man. Other policemen and sometimes the F.B.I. would come over and ask for his help. Which is why he was always so busy. However, as Logan had promised, their latest victim was laid out on the table looking like a badly stitched doll. The top of his head had been removed and his brain was resting in some kind of silver dishpan looking like it had seen better days.

Erik's coffee rolled around in his stomach. "Let's make this quick please."

"Lehnsherr, where were you? I've been-" Scott started.

"I said 'quick'! I'm here so let's go! Hank what happened to this man exactly?" Erik stepped past Summers and looked at the bespectacled man. 

"Uh, w-well he died due to internal hemorrhaging of the brain. However, how it happened is the real mystery." Hank lifted up the pan. The brain had lost it's usual form and looked like a slightly deflated football. Blood pooled around it and there seem to be a hole the size of a bullet wound on the side of it. Erik's pinkey finger could fit in it easily. He shuddered a little at the bizarre thought.

"From a glance, it appears as if the brain was damaged by a bullet. You can see the entry way here. But upon a detailed look, there is no gunpowder, no external entry point in the victim's skull, no exit wound, and most importantly, no bullet." Hank set the pan back down and gave Erik a grim look.

"It was as if this man believed to be shot and his body mimicked the trauma."

"Well I'm guessing this the power of a serial killer telepath. He can make his victims kill themselves with the power of persuasion." Erik crossed his arms in thought.

"So the real question is, how do you prove this? And how to we protect ourselves from becoming one of his victims?" Scott wondered. "He could take control of us and make us shoot each other."

"Yes, and it wouldn't take much to do so." Erik mused as he was sure Scott was glaring at him for the remark, but said nothing.

"I might have something for that, but it will take me a while to procure it." Hank's blue eyes gleamed showing his excitement for his next discovery. "Now what I do have for you is some evidence though I'm not sure how useful it will be. We don't have any surveillance inside the building so we were not able to get a shot of everything that went down."

Hank walked over to his computer and began pulling up a grainy video. "What I was able to find was a street camera at the corner intersection that got him coming out."

Erik and Scott gathered around the screen. It was not the best quality, but even that couldn't hide what they clearly saw as a disguise.

"Is that a Dracula mask?" Scott looked perplexed. The suspect was also wearing an overcoat that looked two sizes too big, making it difficult to gauge his body size. His height was of average size, Erik assumed about 5'7" or 5'8". He wore gloves and walked with a cane which was probably for show.

Hank nodded once. "Yeah, I asked Sergeant Tulley if he had seen the unusually disguised person, but he swears he would have noticed it. He does not remember such a sight. Instead, he told me of an old man coming in prior to the incident wanting to put in a report for a missing watch. He said the guy looked like that old actor out of those black and white horror movies about vampires. You know, Bela Lugosi?" 

"I was able to track him walking a few blocks East but then he disappears under a bridge and never comes back out. Unfortunately, there are no more cameras beyond the pass. I myself went to the last spot and looked around for anything in particular. I found some latex powder on the ground that must have come from the mask, but that really doesn't tell me much."

Hank sighed and removed his glasses for a small polish. "I'm sorry guys, that's all I got."

"No Hank, you did great. We appreciate you getting to this quickly. I know how busy you are. Let us know when you have anymore ideas or evidence. Just call me." Scott shook his hand.  Erik nodded and they both made their exit. They made their way back to the main floor and stopped at Scott's desk.

"So this guy can convince us he's anybody now. How are we really gonna know who we are talking to and what to look out for?" Scott turned to face Erik. 

He really didn't know how to answer. He was unsure of how to go about the rest of the investigation. They were exposed and had no idea whom they were looking for. Then Erik remembered that the killer wanted to meet him. The only was to that outcome was to continue looking at the list of potential victims.

"All we can do is keep looking. Where's the list of trial patients?"

Scott walked over to his file cabinet and pulled out four pieces of paper. "Here. I came up with a way to prioritize the names. So far he seems to be targeting the young men on the list first. The only female murdered was Ventura and it seemed he didn't particularly want to."

"What makes you say that?" Erik looked at the list with names highlighted in yellow.

"Well, Miss Ventura was not a trial patient but was extremely interested in helping Trask Industries get backers. She spoke at a conference on behalf of Dr. MacTaggert, expressing her desire to have control of her life and her powers. Out of the eight dead prior to last night's victim, she was the only one with a short amount of time between her behavior shift and her death. Most of the victims had a period of two to three weeks before killing themselves and she had about three days. I'm thinking the suspect had to take her out quickly for some reason. I'm thinking he didn't like her mind."

"She was a schizophrenic. Perhaps he couldn't keep control of her as well as the others. Are there any other names on these lists that have mental abilities or psychological impairments?"

"Only a couple. Those names I've marked with a dot. The highlighted names are the young men that are the most likely to be targeted next. They are the closest to college campuses, if not residing on them. The suspect said he met you at one of these campuses when you used to go there to speak. Which also means we are probably looking for someone in their mid-to late thirties. College life plays an important role for our suspect. Most of the people on this list were students. We may be looking at a teacher or staff member. A few older people made it into the trial, but I don't think we will see him target those names first." Scott pointed at the names he had outlined.

"There's about ten names for each of us. Chief said we could get some help on this." Scott's words pick up speed.

"I think we'll be fine."

"So I asked and got someone to help." Scott looked a little nervous suddenly. Erik stared at him for a moment and came to a realization. His face fell. 

"You didn't."

He heard the clack of stiff uniform shoes stop just behind him. He turned slowly around and came face to face with the delicate features of Officer Jean Gray. She offered a smile with her hand. "Detective Lehnsherr it is a pleasure to be working with you. I would just like to say-"

"What is she doing here?" Erik spun back around and frowned at Scott. "I told you how I felt about, this." He threw a quick eye glance over his shoulder.

"There are a lot of names to go through and though we have an idea of who to look at first, we still need to check on the others."

"Uh guys, I'm right here." Jean's irritation could be heard, but Erik continued his argument. "I don't think having someone like her on this case will help us right now."

"What do you mean? She's a telepath. Don't you think that could help us with the patients?"

"And what if we get someone who is under the influence of our killer and sees we have her on our team? It would take nothing for our suspect to pin everything on her. The media will her as a killer cop who's a mutant and she'll be taken in. They'll be no bouncing back from a headline like that and we'll be shut down for sure. Besides," Erik lowered his voice, "you know my suspicions." 

"Okay, I've had enough of this." Jean suddenly reached out with her hand. Erik felt his body moving against his will but with his own movement. He stayed in place but lifted off the ground a few inches and rotated to face the woman. He then fell with a soft thump onto his feet. 

"What the hell?" Erik almost reached for his gun when Scott grabbed his right arm. 

"It's alright. She's also has telekinesis."

Jean smirked back. "Actually that's my expertise. My telepathic abilities are not that strong. I can read minds, project a little, and do some minor illusions. Nothing fancy." She looked down at the ground. "When the other officers realized I could read minds, they suddenly began acting hostile to me. I couldn't understand why until I found out a few of them were skimming evidence and selling it back out in the streets. I went to the captain with this and he had me transferred. He didn't do anything about the bad cops."

"When I got here, Chief Howlett said he suspected something was up at the other precinct, but being that it's the only other station that will take in mutant cops, he wanted to deal with it behind closed doors with some of the higher ups. So it wouldn't cause a too much of a scene. So until then, I'm here with you guys." 

Erik felt a pang of guilt in his heart. His suspicion of the officer was overpowered by his ever surging anger at humans. He didn't like it when his fellow mutants were targeted in such manners. It was one the reasons he disliked humans. They always felt they could get away with their primitive desires and demands. Always at each others throats, fighting, scheming, trying to outdo their own species in the name of God, King, and country. So petty. Erik felt if mutants had their own place in the world where they could call sanctuary, the world would see how much better mutants could be at working together. Of course humans would never allow that. No one likes to be the lesser evolved, but someone had to be. Humans will have their last day, someday. Erik felt that with his very soul.

"So, if you'll let me, I would like to aid you in your case to find this psychic killer. I promise I won't be in the way. And for some reason if there's any doubt of my innocence. Let me show you something Detective Lehnsherr." Jean directed him to her desk. He followed after a quick glance at Summers who gave an assuring nod.

She pulled up a video. "The cameras in the garage work fine." She showed him a video of when the incident went down. He could clearly see Jean Gray getting out of her patrol car when suddenly she freezes. 

"I've never felt such a strong force like that before. I tried even with my own powers, but he was so strong." Jean's scrunched her nose a little as she thought back to the memory. "I did get this feeling that was really strange. I wasn't sure if I was picking up someone else's mind at the same time, but... I definitely felt the killer's mind, and then there was another presence."

"How could you tell?" Scott asked.

"The killer's mind felt cold, dark, and evil. That's the best way to describe it. But then as I was trying to fight it, there was this small voice. It was almost a whisper, which is why I thought I was simply picking up someone's panic in the room." Jean suddenly looked pale.

"But then I heard it say, 'please...stop me.' I know it sounds crazy, but it was as if there were two distinct minds in my head. The smaller presence didn't seem to have a sense of malevolence to it. But it was such a fleeting feeling I can't say with certainty that it was real."

"So perhaps the killer is also schizophrenic. Maybe that's way he couldn't keep control of Miss Ventura." Scott snapped his fingers.

"I'm not sure about that." Erik didn't like the feel of this conversation. Too much of it was smoke and mirrors to him. He did much better with hard, concrete evidence and straight forward profiling. 

"I think this might be a chance to bring in Dr. MacTaggert in to help us." Scott looked to Erik with hesitancy.

"No, she may not be a suspect but she has come in contact with the killer at some point. If we bring her in on this, he may read her mind and keep track of our investigation that way. Still, he may be a patient of hers. I'll interview her to see if any of her patients have missed appointments or stopped coming to her without notice." Erik handed Jean the list. 

"Here, you two start hoofing it." He started to walk away.

"H-hey! Where do you think you're going? You're supposed to help us!" Scott yelled to him.

"I have a few leads to check out. I'll be out for a bit. If you find something, call me."

"So I guess I'm with you guys then?" Jean asked. Scott looked back at her with a small smile. "Yes, you are. He can be blunt and a bit of an asshole sometimes, but I think you stepped into his little circle of trust. When you do that, that means he respects you." 

The two looked at each other bashfully exchanging a few awkward coughs. "Um, so let's go. I've got my car in the garage." Jean smiled.

"Sounds good."

 

~ 

 

Erik left the two lovebirds to handle the list. He got in his car and looked up Moira's number. As he waited for her to pick up, he began to head to his old stomping grounds. 

"You've reached Dr. Moira MacTaggert's office-"

"Shit." He remembered Charles telling him she had some medical thing that had called her away from their morning meeting. Then his thoughts traveled back to the beautiful man and shivered. Erik had been attracted to both men and women over time, but it was nothing compared to that which had held him captive the way Charles' gaze had. That spark that jolted him could very well have been sexual attraction in a physical form shooting right into his body. 

He replayed moments of their conversation in his head as he arrived at NYU. He got out and headed for the main office. A few moments later, he was waiting patiently for his person of interest. The Dean came into the waiting room before his office. 

"Dean Rogers, may I have a word with you?" Erik stood up.

"Do you have an appointment? Erik! Erik Lehnsherr I almost didn't recognize you. How have you been?" The older gentleman cracked a grin and made his way over to him. "You know with all of your ruckus on campus years ago, who would've thought you would join the NYPD? It's so good to see you."

"Thank you Dean Rogers. It's good to see you're still at it as well. I wish this could be a happy get together but I'm afraid I'm hear on business."

The white haired man's face fell solemn. "I understand. Are you looking into Mr. Tate's death? What a good student he was. I know sometimes the stress of academics can get to some students, but to do what he did and so out of the blue, it boggles the mind."

"Well, we are looking into it from a...different perspective. I'm actually here to see some of the old footage you have on file of the Brotherhood protests and marches. Do you know if I can take a look at them?"

"Oh sure, Erik. I'll have Ms. Bracken from archives bring them to you in one of the study rooms in the library. You know The Brotherhood have come back to campus again. So many start up and disband but your group has always endured right along with the X-Men. Strange, isn't it? It's been very vocal lately. You may want to take a look at some of the more recent videos. There online so you don't have to look hard for them."

"Another time, for now I just need to look at the older ones." Erik gave him one of his rare smiles. Dean Rogers returned it. "Very well then. I hope you find what you're looking for in them. So good to see you young man. After what happened with your parents, I worried you would fall into an abyss of darkness."

Erik looked away quickly as the sting of pain hit his throat. "Yes, well I should be going. I appreciate your help and I will try to stop by announced next time."

It didn't take long for him to reach the library and was please to see the tapes were already piled up by an old television. He grabbed the first one and smiled. 

The Brotherhood's first public protest. He remembered how nervous he had been, but even with his nerves crackling under his skin, it couldn't replace the urge to speak out against the multiple injustices and a string of mutant hate crimes that had washed through New York.

He popped the tape in and pressed play. The television blinked on and after a few bouts of fuzz and wobbly sound, he saw his younger self standing on the steps of the main hall. A small crowd had formed at the bottom of the stone steps and his brothers and sisters stood behind him, flying their makeshift flag looking proud and resolute. 

"The time to join together is now my mutant brothers and sisters. More and more we are seeing mutant hate crimes on the rise and nothing being done about it. We must take it upon ourselves to protect one another. To be aware of the views and actions being taken to keep us down. They look upon us as a threat to human existence. We have been put down, shut out, beaten, and cast out. I will not sit idly by and watch as we are humiliated and persecuted, many for crimes we did not commit. Our powers should not be looked at as a curse. Our looks should not be considered an abomination. Our lives should not be worth less than these people, these humans. They do all of this because they are afraid. They are afraid they have become obsolete, and the truth is they have. Mutants are the next step in evolution! We know it! They know it! So they will stop at nothing to prevent their extinction. Yet in this fight and in their own pathetic wars amongst each other, they are slowly destroying themselves. For too long, they have destroyed this planet with their wars and pollution. In this primordial ooze of radioactive waste that they have created, a new form of life has come forth and it is us. Nature has chosen us to be the next step in the chain of evolution. To bring back the world to a peaceful and cleaner world. Humans do not understand nor do they care for this land and have been given plenty of chances to change their ways. To show their better nature. Now we will show them that **we** are the better species. We can do what they cannot. I can show you. The Brotherhood is here for you! To show you the way to a higher path!"

"To The Brotherhood!" His followers chanted. He remembered each face. Emma, Azazel, Angel, Armando who also joined Erik in the police force, all spoke aloud with pride.

Some of the crowd returned the chant while others booed. Erik looked closely at the faces in the crowd. It was difficult trying to get a clear look at each one but he stopped and started the video multiple times trying to catch a familiar face. Nothing hit him. He had to be here. This was the speech the killer had quoted from. He would have to ask Ms. Bracken if he could make a copy to take with him. He stopped the tape and pulled it out. 

Ms. Bracken told him it wouldn't be any trouble and disappeared to make a duplicate. As he waited, he wandered the aisles of books that varied in topics. He over to the corner window and looked out. Many times he had stood here. He would pace and jot down dates and names of mutants victimized and hunted for no other reason than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. His best speeches were written in this musty smelling room. He thought he could rally every single mutant in New York to his cause. How surprised he was to meet retaliation in the form of the X-Men. Other mutants that believed they could co-exist with humans. How ridiculous he thought it was. How naive. He wondered how many of them were alive and well today. Still, Erik was able to see some humans that were sympathetic to their cause, such as the cops that worked in the precinct with him. They were hunted down and accused just as much as mutants. Over time Erik had come to realize that it was much more complicated than just bring mutants together and fighting back. He had found mutants not willing to fight. Mutants that hated their powers and wished to be human. Some that didn't care to change the way things were because they liked being able to work the system. Mutants that worked in the underground fighting scene enjoyed the lack of rights when they were caught kidnapping and using mutants to fight for them. 

So much of this Erik found out later in life and looking back at that speech he couldn't help but feel ridiculous.  Could Scott be right? Could this speech and all of his past endeavors help create a serial killers idea of murder? Not really. It wasn't so far fetched to think so, but there were bigger motives to consider. This mutant had an issue with Trask's drug. He wanted to make a statement to Trask that the cure was not wanted. But in this action, he was also pushing the drug forward. They would want to stop dangerous mutants like the killer before he'd have a chance and they could do it with the cure. Did the killer know this? If he felt that humans were to be removed from this world, did he have a plan to do so? How far had he thought this through? How powerful could he really be? 

"This view always made me think of the best ideas. Such as what to do with a handsome man in a secluded corner of the campus library." A velvety voice barely above a whisper floated in his ear. Erik gasped but before he could move, a gentle hand snaked around his waist and he felt a warm chin on his left shoulder.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon, detective Lehnsherr." He could hear the smile in his voice. Erik let himself relax a little.

"It wasn't my intention. I don't want to come off as being too eager. I am here on business." Erik felt him shift against his backside, subtle but noticeable warmth press against his hip . He took in a sharp breath.

"I don't mind eager and I don't wish to keep you long. I just wanted to say you look handsome in this light." Charles pulled away and Erik was able to get a look at him. He wore a dark blue cardigan with khaki pants and brown loafers. Erik realize how old fashioned his style was, it helped him stay focused. "You look like you fit in with all these old books."

Charles frowned. "Are you saying I look old and tattered? Really detective I give you my best flattery and an open invitation and you pick on my sense of fashion. I'll have you know these lecture rooms are quite drafty and warm layers are necessary if you don't want your teeth to chatter as you teach."

"So you work here?"

"Sometimes, I do special lectures and participate in group discussions during conventions and medical reviews. Today I am doing some research for another paper. For such a big city, it really is a small world."

Erik's eyes traveled down the slender figure and noticed a brown briefcase on the floor. "I see."

"Well then I will leave you to your business, good day detective." Charles turned to leave, but Erik grabbed his arm. "Wait."

Charles looked up into his eyes. A question posed on his face but not spoken. 

"Erik. Just call me Erik." 

"Alright, Erik." Charles flashed him another gentle smile that reminded him of sunlight peaking through a canopy of trees. He wasn't sure why.

"I'd like to see you later."

"I thought you had business to take care of." Charles moved closer to him. He could smell a faint scent of herbs coming off Charles. As if he had walked right out of a garden all the way from Westchester, and brought the fresh breeze into the city.

"I will be finished by this evening. Would you care to join me for dinner?"

Charles's eyes fluttered gently as if he were blinking back tears, he smiled. "I would love to."

"Mr. Lehnsherr? Are you back here?" Ms. Bracken's warbled voice interrupted them and they stepped away. 

"I'll call you later for your address." Charles picked up his briefcase and brushed back a lock of misplaced hair. Erik thought about what it would feel like between his fingers.

"You have my number." Erik gave a small wave and headed back to the front desk. He was intercepted by Ms. Bracken on the way.

"Here is your copy Mr. Lehnsherr. Is that all you need?" she gave her best smile, but she was already outdone by someone much more charming. "I believe so, thank you and thank Dean Rogers for me."

Erik stepped out into the winter chill and headed back to the station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, last chapter felt so complicated for me. I don't know why. This one felt smoother for me but took longer to write, go figure. Hee hee! More will be on the way!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 

Erik spent most of the day going over the tape from the Brotherhood marches and meetings. Looking at each face he could make out clearly was difficult and grueling. His eyes began to strain and his head ached from the lack of food. He didn't realize how much time had passed until Armondo touched his shoulder.

"Hey amigo, you should get some rest."

Erik looked up from the old t.v. blinked away the bleariness to see his old friend come into focus. "Oh, what time is it?"

"Almost seven. Are you looking for your killer in this tape?" Armondo carefully picked up the cassette case and read the label on it. "I remember this speech. You were so passionate about our cause. I remember when I heard this, I thought to myself, I would follow you anywhere. Whatever battle you led us into, no matter what lay at the end of the road for us, I would have your back. I made a promise to myself to do so."

Erik looked back at him in wonder. "You really felt that way about that speech?"

"Yes," Armondo let out a chuckle. "I just never thought that path would be to the NYPD."

Erik grinned. "I always wanted to ask you about that. Why out of all of the Brotherhood, did you come with me to join law enforcement?"

Armondo shrugged. "The others, they thought you had lost your way. Like you were giving in to the humans. After what happened with your parents, I just couldn't believe that you would do such a thing. I still had my promise to fulfill, so I came with you. Now I see all the good you do looking after mutants who get hurt or victimized. You are still fighting for us. It's a battle that is little harder to push up hill, but have not given up."

Armondo put the case down and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. "I still believe in you. I will follow you anywhere."

Erik watched him leave and let out a sigh. He wished he could feel as confident as his old comrade, but he wasn't sure if he was leading anyone anywhere. In fact he felt like he was being led around by an invisible leash. He leaned back and allowed his own memory to replay of that day long ago. How bright the sun was, the warmth radiating down upon him on that early summer day. It was just before summer break when he would leave campus at make the short trek to his parents' apartment in New Jersey. He could hear the cries of enthusiasm and of disagreement. He could see a small cluster of students banded together of to the side with banners of their own. The video didn't capture this moment as they had stood behind the camera crew. But Erik remembered. He remembered The X-Men. They were always there to try and sway the crowds to their cause just as much as Erik's did. He wasn't sure when they had formed, but it was almost as if they were born simultaneously. He tried to remember their faces.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his head.

"Aah!" He grabbed it and rubbed his temple. "I really need to eat something. Dinner!" Erik realized he needed to make something for dinner. He had promised Charles a night with him.

"Shit." He reached for his coat and hat when his phone rang. He thought about letting it ring for a second then sighed and picked up. "Hello, Lehensherr speaking."

"Oh, good I didn't miss you." Hank's soft voice was on the other end. "I just wanted to tell you. That item that I looked into to help you on your case will be here by the end of the week. I could only get my hands on one so I hope it will be enough."

"Thank you Hank, I'm sure we'll make it work. Right now anything will help."

"Ok then, see you then." Click.

Erik made his way out of the precinct and stopped at the market to browse items for a quick dinner. His phone buzzed in his pocket and looked to see who was calling.

Charles.

"Hello?"

"Is this a bad time?"

"No not at all. I was just, looking to see what's on the menu for tonight." Erik glanced down at the produce section and frowned. Slim pickings for the fresh stock and he wasn't sure if he would like what came packaged.

"Don't go to extremes for my sake. I am quite the gourmand and will eat anything put in front of me." Charles' smile could be heard through the speaker.

"Is that so?"

"Take that any way you want. I just really want to see you."

"Then how about chinese tonight?"

"Good enough for me."

"I'll text you my address and I'll see you soon then." He got off the phone and left the market. He hit up the restaurant closest to his place and rushed up the stairs to his apartment. Erik suddenly felt giddy like a kid and tried to shake off the ridiculous feeling.

"Calm down, idiot! It's not like you haven't been on a date before. Besides, you've already had coffee and a mid day fondling." He growled to himself. He thought about taking a shower but wasn't sure how long Charles would be. As if to answer that thought, there was a knock at the door. Erik took a deep breath and opened it. He was greeted by a perfect sight. Charles beamed back at him. He wore a dark navy peacoat and a green and blue plaid scarf.

"Good evening. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

"Actually, I just got here myself. Come in." Erik stepped aside and closed the door. He took his coat and scarf and hung it beside his. "I have plates or we could just eat from the cartons."

Charles spun around and closed in quick. Erik couldn't have moved out of the way even if he had wanted to. He felt hot soft lips press against his cold and slightly chapped ones. How could someone feel so warm in such freezing temperatures, he thought. His mouth parted slightly in surprise and Charles took his lower lip into his mouth and suckled gently against it.

A moan escaped Erik's mouth and Charles smiled, letting go of his claim with a soft smack.

"Sorry, I just had to get that out of the way. I've been wanting to do that since I first saw you this morning. I figured we should just break the ice a little." Charles stepped back and turned to the kitchen table. "Hmm, I smell lo mein and perhaps some teriyaki? The cartons will do just fine, I don't mind sharing especially now that we got that little kiss out of the way."

Erik was still in shock and just stood there staring at the beautiful man who had suddenly taken charge of the situation. He began laying out the food and pulling out chopsticks when he paused to look back at Erik.

"Are you alright?" Charles looked back with concern. "Was I too forward?"

"No!" Erik said quickly, "I just-I..." Erik fumbled over his words. Never had he felt to out of control, so weightless, and it felt good. "I... I like it." He walked over to Charles slowly. "I loved it, actually."

"Then would you like to eat here or can we take it to the living room?" Charles grabbed a white carton of steaming food and handed it to Erik. Erik smiled. "Wherever you want to go, I'll follow you."

 

`

By the time they finished dinner, Charles was curled up on the sofa against Erik with his head on his shoulder. After an hour or so of conversation and devouring chinese food, they were now watching some old film on Erik's barely used television. He could smell Charles' shampoo faintly in his hair. He had gotten Charles to shed that horrible cardigan to reveal a white button down shirt underneath. The top two buttons had come undone.

"So how's the case going? It can't be too bad if you were able to see me tonight."

Erik realized that Scott and Jean were probably still finishing up their investigating and he fought to push the guilt back down into the depths of his conscience. "A few things were found, but I really can't discuss them with anyone outside of the case."

"Oh, I thought I was part of it. Am I what you call, an expert witness or person of interest?" Charles looked up at him curiously. Erik laughed. "No, an expert witness is needed for when the case goes to trial and you do not want to be a person of interest. Especially in this case."

"I see. Well, I hope you catch whomever it is you are looking for. The sooner you do, the more of these nights we can have." Charles lifted himself up and sat himself in Erik's lap. "You look like you need to let go of some stress. I can see it in your eyes that this day has taken a toll on you."

Erik's heart rate jumped up. "It's been rough." It was all he could say without his voice trembling. Why was he feeling so overwhelmed with emotion? He felt like crying, laughing, and screaming all at once. Did Charles have some strange affect on him? He almost wanted to ask him if he was a mutant.

"I bet it is." Charles' voice was soothing and hypnotic. "Let's get a little more comfortable, shall we?" He hands roamed underneath Erik's shirt. Again his skin felt hot and made Erik's body temperature rise with each caress. He lifted off his shirt and exposed his toned chest and abs. Erik enjoyed working out as a way to get his mind off of work and it showed. Charles grinned. "Well, I feel slightly inadequate."

"Don't, I betting you look amazing out of all those school teacher clothes." Erik's voice was thick and low.

"There you go, mocking my get up. Are we always going to fight like this?" Charles began unbuttoning his shirt seductively. Erik grinned. "If we can't find you some decently modern clothes then yes. I'm afraid that's the way it's going to be. Do you still want to do this?"

Charles was free of his shirt and under shirt now. "Absolutely. I'm liking what I see." He rolled his hips against Erik's crotch, receiving a groan in response. "And definitely what I feel."

Erik was hard now and wanted to be out of the confines of his pants. "We should take this to the bedroom." he panted.

Charles shook his head. "I can't wait that long." He reached down and unzipped Erik's pants. His hand grasped his hard member and liberated it. "Oh Erik, now I feel really inadequate."

Erik grinned. He never failed to impress his partners with his endowment. "Don't worry, I'm sure you can handle it."

Without thinking, Erik reached out with his powers and pulled open the drawer beside his bed and lifted the tube of lube out and snatched it out of the air. He stopped when Charles looked at him in shock. Shit, he didn't tell him he was a mutant. "Charles, I-"

"That was magnificent!" Charles said breathlessly."What was that? Telekenisis? Matter manipulation?"

"I can move metal." Erik twisted the top to reveal the metal rim he could control. "Look if this makes you uncomfortable-"

"Are you joking? I think you are wonderful!" Charles kissed Erik deeply. Erik pulled away. "Really? Why is that?"

"I study mutation all the time but I rarely ever see it in action. I don't want you to think I'm going to start testing on you or anything, I just think you are amazing. That's all." Charles' smile disarmed Erik and he relaxed again. "Sorry, I just deal with so many people that see me that would rather put a bullet in me than kiss me. Not that it would work."

"Erik, it must be hard for you to trust people. I don't blame you." Charles stroked his cheek. "I promise you, you can trust me."

He looked into Charles' eyes and fell deep into their blue lakes. "I want to."

"Then believe me when I say this, I want you right now."

It didn't take long to remove the rest of their clothes and to get Charles prepped. Charles bent over the arm rest of the sofa, bracing himself with his arms. Erik slicked himself up and pressed against his entrance.

"Erik, I want to feel you inside me." Charles purred. "Please?"

Erik didn't need anymore encouraging, he pushed in gently at first as to not cause too much pain. Charles moaned and his back arched up. He could see it was covered with light freckles. He rubbed his hip in assurance and waited until Charles relaxed again. He pushed again, inching closer and closer until he was buried to the hilt.

"Ah, Erik!" Charles sighed. Erik felt a shiver of pleasure from the sound of it. He had to be careful not to spoil this too soon.

"Everything okay?" Erik asked. Charles twisted his head back and grinned. "Fuck me, Erik."

Erik grinned back. "As you wish."

He started with slow short thrusts but soon he fell into a deep rhythm that required him to hold the sofa in place with his powers. Each gasp and moan that Charles made increased his momentum that he felt a drop of sweat roll down his spine. He could feel his completion was coming soon and hoped Charles was too. God he felt so good. It had been so long since he felt this alive. In fact he couldn't even remember when was the last time he had sex this intense.

He felt Charles tighten around him and saw his head lift up in ecstasy as he came. Erik's thrusts became quick and not a minute later he too came. His legs wobbled a little and he leaned over against Charles' limp body. For a moment all was quiet except for heavy breathing that slowly came to an end. Erik got up and made his way into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth. When he returned he saw Charles getting up and stretching.

"Here." Erik handed him the towel.

"Thank you, love." Charles cleaned himself up as Erik stood awkwardly. Charles began picking up his clothes and Erik felt a pang of disappointment. "So are you leaving?"

"Only if you want me to. I was just picking up. We should get rid of theses food cartons before we head for bed. I mean, if you want me to stay."

Erik nodded. "Yes, please stay."

Charles smiled. "Then I would like that very much. Here," he handed Erik their clothing, "put those in the bedroom. I'll be right there." He placed a quick kiss on his lips and began tidying up, despite being in the nude. Erik let out a soft chuckle, but did as he was told.

He laid down and once again tried to recollect when was the last time he had been in a serious relationship. Was it college? He tried to think, but nothing came to mind. He knew there was someone, there were feelings of nostalgia hitting him tonight. Things that he felt before, but for the life of him couldn't remember.

"All done. May I join you?" Charles' voice interrupted his thoughts and Erik decided to put his mind to rest on the matter. "Sure."

He shifted over a little and Charles climbed and immediately snuggled up against him. "I must warn you, I cuddle."

Erik laughed. "Well I must warn you, I talk in my sleep."

Charles eyes gleamed mischievously. "Oh I wonder what I will find out."

"Not much apparently, from what I've heard from others. None of it makes any sense." Erik wrapped his arm around the smaller man and felt sleep coming for him. "You can let me know in the morning what you make of it."

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

A pause. "Nothing. Good night."

The room was silent until the sun came up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. The holidays were a little more hectic than I thought they'd be. I hope this lovely chapter makes up for it. I hope to update again soon.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unorthodox morning meeting.

**Chapter 7**

 

The morning rays peaked thru Erik's blinds in the most annoying spot, landing right in his line of sight. He winced and rolled onto his left side, only to be abruptly stopped by a warm wriggling body.

A soft chuckle.

"Did you forget you had company?" came the eloquent yet slightly raspy voice of Charles.

"No, yes, uh... sort of." Erik rolled back and the second dose of sunshine got him up. He sat on the edge and turned to look back at a most glorious sight. Charles looked like some god out of a Venetian painting. The light hit his fair freckled skin and gave him an ethereal glow. His lower half was mostly covered by the bed sheet but his right leg lay bare, and Erik couldn't help but admire his physique. Perhaps he ran or played some sort of sport. His brown locks, with a touch of bed head, still curled and in place despite the night's events. Erik could see his eyes were twinkling with gold and a little bit of mischief.

"Do you like what you see love?" Charles' smile was sinful. Erik licked his lips unconsciously. "I just... It's been a while since I've been with someone. I'm still having trouble understanding how I've gotten so lucky with you." Erik looked away as he thought about how stupid that just sounded, Charles' laugh didn't help.

"Lucky? Do you honestly think it was a simple roll of the dice that I had sex with you? I cannot wait to see what we roll for breakfast."

Charles then kicked off the covers in a slightly childish way revealing the rest of his god-like body. Erik caught a glimpse of his cock as he got out of bed and thought about the night before. He felt a stir in his groin and took a deep breath. _Not now_ , he thought.

"Do you mind if I use your shower?" Charles peaked around the door frame to the bathroom. A silly question as he was already grabbing a towel. Erik nodded and Charles smiled back contently. "Thank you, I won't be long."

When he heard the water run he got up and began picking up the discarded clothes on the floor, separating his from Charles'. As he did, he heard a familiar buzz of his phone on the kitchen counter. Quickly slipping on some boxers he crossed the room and picked up the device. He sighed. Summers with his tenth attempt. Was he up at the crack of dawn, or did he just never sleep, Erik wondered. He knew he had to answer back, but part of him wanted to savor the morning with Charles. As if to make his mind up for him, his phone buzzed again.

"Summers, this had better be good." Erik growled into the phone.

"Were you not awake?" Came the young man's reply.

"It's barely seven'o'clock."

"Well, when I called last night and you didn't answer, I assumed you went to bed early and you'd be up early. I didn't take you for an eight hour sleeper."

"Where the fuck is this going?" Erik was ready to hang up on him, especially now since the water stopped running. 

"Oh, so a couple of things. Hank was able to go over some of the details of the earlier victims and found an unusual substance on the lady from the pier. Earlier glance from the first forensics team thought it was just sludge from the water since it was near a sewer run off, but Hank says it's something that has no identifiable marks."

"What do you mean, not identifiable?" Erik put the phone on speaker so he could start the coffee maker. 

"He said that he could see it, he could place it in a vial, but when he put it in the analyzer, it read as if there was nothing in the vial."

Erik frowned. "That makes no sense."

"Yeah, well he wants to show us since he has no way of sending us the data, or lack thereof."

"And the next thing?" Erik reached into his cupboard to remove two mugs.

"Ah, Trask Industries. Dr. MacTaggart called and said she couldn't get approval for a visit. In fact, they revoked all her clearances and demanded she turn in all her patient files.  I tried to contact them in order to get any information on the drug trials and the victim's but they shut me down. We really need to get a look of what's going on in there. If this killer is trying to stop Trask from releasing this drug, he may go to greater lengths to get to it."

"I doubt we will get in, even if we get a warrant, I wouldn't put it past them to destroy evidence or manipulate data to cover their tracks."

"They could be arrested for that." Summers' voice wavered as if he were jogging.

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind a few casualties for the cause." 

"Those bastards. They would do that?"

"I've heard that all of their past whistle blowers have never lived to see a day in court. I think they would do anything to keep their secrets."

"Erik, we've got to get in there and see what's going on. We know the killer can waltz in and out of a police station. What would he do in a military/contractor medical facility? What could he do to all those people working there? His endgame has something to do with Trask's mutant cure and it's being tested right here. What do we do?" Scott's voice rose with frustration. It made Erik's heart speed up with it.

"I don't know yet! Settle down and let me think about this. I need to get some coffee in me first, then I'll head over to the precinct to meet with Hank, by then I may have something. Why don't you go ahead and see if we can get a warrant started. It may take a while to procure and I doubt it will be approved but it's better than nothing."

"Sounds good, hey you got coffee? Pour me a cup."

"Pour you- What?"

There was a knock at the door.

"Summers, are you at my door?" Erik looked to the door and then back down at the phone.

"Yeah open up. I brought donuts."

Erik slapped a hand down his face and growled. "I didn't say you could come over."

"Yeah well, when you didn't answer I decided to head over. Then I noticed you live by Mrs. Donut's Factory and they make great-" Erik cut off the phone and stalked towards the door. He could still here Summers babbling on behind it.

"Did I hear something about donuts?" Charles came wandering in with a towel around his waist and another drying his hair.

_Shit!_

Scott knocked again. Charles froze and looked uncertainly at Erik. "Am I not supposed to be here?"

"No, I mean yes, it's just-" Once again Erik found himself stuttering like an idiot. Did British beauties do that to him? This was like something out of a nightmare. Before Erik could say anything more. Charles walked past him and opened the door.

"Erik..." Scott stared back at the half naked man before him holding a pink box with a smiling donut on it. Charles flashed him a dazzling smile. "I knew I heard donuts! Come in and set them down. I do believe the coffee is ready. Erik where did you pull those mugs from? We're going to need a third." 

Both detectives simply stared as Charles moved from one cabinet to another searching for a mug. "Aha! Here we are. Boy, that does smell rather bold. A dark roast, is it? Well just make sure you put extra sugar in mine. I'm just going to put some clothes on, I'll be right back. Uh, Summer? Is that your name?"

"S-Scott actually. Scott Summers." Scott stumbled into the apartment but caught himself quickly. 

"Hmm, I'm Charles. Charles Xavier, a pleasure to meet you. If you'll excuse me." Charles padded away into Erik's bedroom, leaving the two men to take in what just happened.

Scott was the first to recover. "Xavier. As in the Xavier that worked on the mutant X gene. As in-"

"Shut it, Summers." Erik glared as hard as he could at the young man, but Summers remained unaffected. "I think you may be getting a little too close to this investigation."

"He simply wrote the thesis on it. He doesn't work for Trask, nor does he work for Dr. MacTaggart. I am not getting too close to anything."

"I don't know about that. Those boxers don't quite look your size." Summers smirked. Erik looked down to see he had put on the wrong boxers. The waist was the same but they were a little too short. They barely contained his well endowed member.

"Goddammit!" Erik stomped back into his room to see Charles standing half dressed looking around. "Oh you've got them. I was wondering where they went."

Erik slumped down onto the bed and buried his head in his hands. "This is such a fucking mess."

"I'm sorry. Have I ruined your day?" Charles came over and knelt beside him. His voice sounded hurt.

"No, it's not you. It's this case, it's my ass of a partner. I really just wanted a quiet morning with you. But I guess I should've realized that's not gonna happen until I finish this."

"I see. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I doubt it." Erik got up and pulled off Charles' boxers and grabbed his own. Charles finished dressing along with Erik. "I'm afraid my work is pitting me up against Trask Industries. Unless you know someone who can get us in the doors there, it's going to be like trying pass through the gates of Hell unscathed."

They walked out to see Scott laying out three plates with donuts and coffee ready. Scott pushed one of the mugs forward. "Uh, this one has the extra sugar." Erik had to hand it to Summers, he was handling the situation with professionalism, or was it kindness? Erik wasn't sure, but he felt himself relax. Scott was someone who seemed to have a strong ability to see the best in people. Maybe that was why he put up with Erik. If only he could do the same.

Charles smiled and took it. "Why thank you, Scott. As a matter of fact, I do know someone who can get you into Trask's Labs."

Both Erik and Scott looked at him in shock. "Who?" they said in unison.

Charles took a sip before answering. "Me."

"Wait, you work for Trask?" Scott leaned towards Charles intensely. Charles shook his head. "No, but they have been harassing me continuously over the years to come work for them. All I would have to do is call them up and get them to show me around. I could have you both in as my assistants, I'm sure it won't be a problem."

Scott let out a dry laugh. "Well I'll be damned. That's great! How soon could you get us in?"

"As soon as we finish these delicious treats. Is there a jam filled one?"

Erik watched as the others poked around in the box and wondered how he got so lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAARRRGH! I'm so sorry it's taken me a while to update. As it is, this a short piece but I wanted to fill it with some fluff to lighten the story a teeney tiny bit. I think it's okay but it'll have to do. I will try to get myself together to get another chapter out. Hopefully it won't take as long. >_<


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

Erik sat down with a huff into the passenger side of Scott's car.  He thought back to the earlier conversation back in his apartment. They had finished their quick impromptu breakfast without too much talking and kept it business-like. Charles agreed to call up Trask Industries for an interview and added that he would be bringing two of his assistants with him.

"Dr. Hank McCoy and Professor Lehnsherr." Erik whispered into Charles' free ear. Scott looked perplexedly back at him. "Wait. Why him and not me?"

"Because I will need someone medical savvy just in case we get interrogated." Erik replied as he collected everyone's dishware. He placed them into the kitchen sink and quickly noted it was them most plates and mugs he had ever had to wash. He shook the thought out of his mind.

"Okay, but you are not a professor. Why do you get to go? And what am I going to be doing?" Scott grumbled.

"I need you to sit tight and wait to hear from me. As soon as we leave Trask Industries, I have a feeling there is going to be movement in the case. Whether its Trask or the killer, we need to be ready. Keep an ear out on the radio for another murder. You remember all the names of the possible targets on the trial lists? If not have that list ready." Erik grabbed Charles' coat off the rack as he heard the young man finish his conversation.

"If you don't mind, I would like to get Jean's help on this." Scott searched his pockets for his keys and Erik lifted them up in the air from the side table by the door.

"Jean? Oh right, the-"

"Nice new recruit that did your work for you while you were off doing God knows what." Scott finished as he swiped the keys out of the air. Charles chuckled at the sight.

"I was doing some research."

"Care to tell me how that went?"

"No."

Charles took this moment to jump in. "Gentlemen, I have full and complete confidence in your determination and cooperation for this case. However, I believe we should get moving as I have secured a midday appointment and I know Dr. McCoy has requested you two for a meeting as well. You will need to see if he will be able to set aside some time in his busy schedule to come with us. Is that correct, Professor Lehnsherr?" He threw a teasing wink and charming smile that almost made Erik blush had he not busied himself with slipping on Charles' coat.

"So what exactly will you be a professor of?" 

Scott brought Erik back to the present with the repeated question and the slam of his car door.

"Don't worry about that, just get driving." Erik said in a low voice. They both watched Charles as he walked over to his ride. He threw a smile and a wave and both detectives waved back in unison. The fancy car drove off puffing hot exhaust into the cold air. 

"So you two-"

"Don't even start Summers." Erik clicked himself in and threw another trademark glare at his partner.

"I'm just saying, it's nice to see you in another relationship. That's all." Scott said quickly as he started the car.

"What the hell would you know about my relationships?" Erik truly was shocked at what Scott had just said.

"Oh you know, just from what Logan has told me. About Magda." Scott finished the name softly.

Shortly after Erik's parents' deaths, he had met a beautiful person. She was kind and soft and had helped him curb the rage he had felt that almost plummeted into the black abyss of revenge. They lasted for a long time, even into the academy. But work became a drug for Erik and he saw less and less of Magda as he picked up one case after another, after another. Until one day, she was gone. What hurt him the most is that he hadn't realized that little by little she had been removing things from their apartment. It wasn't until she knocked on his door and handed him his spare key that he noticed there was nothing left of hers in the tiny apartment. How could he have been so blind? In a way, Charles reminded him of her. His kind eyes and beautiful voice so full of compassion, seem to quell the anger and self loathing he was prone to. Charles made him feel... He made him feel again. It was so easy for Erik to just turn off his emotions and run through the days almost like a machine. A machine that ran on aggression and justice for mutants, not really for the law. If it wasn't for his commitment to helping mutants, sometimes he wondered if he saw someone getting robbed on the street, would he just simply walk on by? But Magda and Charles made him feel, dare he say it? Human. 

"Logan needs to mind his fucking business and so do you." Erik said with not as much venom as he normally would.

 

~~~

 

Both Erik and Scott walked quickly through the field office and headed straight to the back where Hank's labs hid. To be honest, they looked more like Frankenstein's laboratory than a standard Crimes Unit. Hank was always making new toys and tech to help find evidence and clues. Flasks of multicolored goo lined one counter while the other held machines and devices and blinked and buzzed. Erik's power would vibrate and tingle unconsciously just standing at the door. He wondered about a strange helmet with wires sticking into it when Hank walked in holding a vial with yellow translucent liquid.

"I call it psychoplasm." Hank handed it over to Erik who took a glance at it before giving it to Summers.

"Is that like ectoplasm?" Scott gave the slime a slight shake. It reminded him of jell-o.

"Sort of. You are thinking of something secreted from ghosts or specters with some psychic energy like in the movies. Well, this stuff is different in that unlike the movies, you can't use it for anything. Nor can you run it through any diagnostic machine or combine it with anything. It is simply there, but not there."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Erik crossed his arms when Scott tried to hand it back to him. 

Hank shrugged. "It means what it means, by all accounts this stuff shouldn't exist. But there it is. I found it when I dissected all of the victims' brains. It was laced through the inside and even down near the spinal cortex. That vial is from Ms. Ventura. From what I can deduce it is simply psycho waste. Whatever the attacks did to them, it left this behind. The importance of this is it could be the evidence needed to identify the killer. It links all of the victims to this one person so when you guys catch him, we have what we need to bring him down. I will be working on a new device to see if I can properly categorize it and get it to register for the courts to use."

Scott grinned. "Way to go Hank. You never cease to amaze me."

Hank gave a sheepish grin. "Well, I wish I had the guts to be a detective. But if I can help you guys this way, I feel like I'm taking these bad guys down with you."

"I think we can make that a reality for you, Hank. We need you to come out of your science lab and help in the field." Erik watched as confusion changed to worry on the bespectacled face.

"W-what do you mean? You want me to go out and... catch someone?"

"No, nothing like that. I need you to come with me and help gather information about the Mutant Cure trial being developed at Trask Industries."

"Are you kidding? How the hell did you get a viewing of within the compound walls? That place is like Fort Knox. Of course I'll come! I have always wondered what those mad scientists have been up to. Let me make a few changes to my schedule and get my stuff." Hank began rushing around like a headless chicken, typing on his laptop and closing it, grabbing his phone and what look to be a medical bag. Erik and Scott thought it best to move out of the way.

"We'll just wait outside for you at my desk, okay Hank?" Scott said backing out. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'll just be a moment." Hank shouted from a back room. There was a loud crash and Erik took it as their cue to leave.

Out in the busy office of the precinct, they reached Scott's desk as Jean arrived. "Hey guys. I heard you got an interview with some vampires. Trask Industries is letting you see their labs."

"I'm not sure how far we'll get, but with Charles' help, we could get some kind of idea of what the killer is after." Erik took Scott's chair before Scott could reach it, and Scott let out a sigh in defeat.

"I'm pretty sure it's the cure itself. It's obvious he doesn't want it developed."

Erik shook his head. "If that was truly the case, with this guy as powerful as he is, why doesn't he just go over there, take over their minds and make them destroy it and forget the formulas? Why is he killing humans and mutants? There is a deeper motive at work here." Erik pondered for a moment. "He wants us to chase him."

Jean looked at him with concern. "Do you think we should play into his game like that? He could be leading us into some kind of trap." 

Erik leaned back in the chair and gave his chin a scratch. He could already feel the scruff of his ginger beard poking through. "We don't really have much choice. If we don't find the motive, we won't be able to catch this guy. There needs to be a reason this killer is taking his time and killing the way he is. He could easily make it quick and efficient. Instead, he makes a spectacle of it and never kills the same way twice."

Scott nodded in agreement. "It's violent. Drastically violent. The ambulance and the processing plant. Even Ventura was given a heavy cinder block that she held until the very end that needed to be pried out of her hands. It's just horrific the way he makes them do it." Scott pauses before he speaks again. "Do you think they all knew? Did they have any conscious knowledge of what was happening to them?"

"It depends." Jean stepped in closer to keep their conversation from leaking out to the few onlookers in the precinct. "When a telepath takes over, it's like you take a back seat to your thought process. I have never been strong enough to control anybody, but I knew another telepath that showed me what it's like. It's not too different to when we were all frozen in place. You feel like you're looking through a window and when you move, it's like invisible strings pulling you around.There is a sort of numbness to it though."

She shook her head. "That's the best way I can describe it. I'm pretty sure the killer wanted the victim to feel pain, but to be honest, I think it has more to do with fear."

"Do you think he gets off on the fear? Like a high?" Scott looked to Erik who shook his head.

"I don't think so. Jean, would the killer become incapacitated or suffer some kind of injury or recoil from this?"

"I'm not sure. It's all in the mind. If you are made to believe you were shot, your mind would tell you, 'you're in pain' and trick you into thinking you are hurt. If this telepath is strong, perhaps he creates within his mind a mental barrier, to shield him from inflicting self harm." Jean gasped. "I almost forgot."

Erik sat up. "Almost forgot what?"

"The voice." Jean replied. The other two looked on impatiently and she blushed. "Sorry, the voice I heard in the parking lot."

"You mean the one you thought you heard?" Erik said dismissively. 

"No, I am pretty sure I heard it. You know at first I was thinking the killer might be schizophrenic or maybe even dis-associative identity disorder, but what if the killer is using someone as a... what do you call it?" Jean tailed off.

"A patsy?" Scott finished. She smiled and snapped her fingers. "That's it."

"Then we are in even more trouble finding this guy and nailing him for these murders." Erik grumbled. 

Finally, Hank came striding over with his medical bag and white lab jacket in hand. "Okay, so are we ready to go?"

"Did you make sure to put your pet goo away? Can't let that stuff lay around to start devouring people now, can we?" Erik let Hank have one of his more shark-y smiles and Hank stepped back a little.

"Ignore him Hank and make sure he doesn't screw you guys up at Trask Industries." Scott gave Hank a firm pat on the shoulder. Hank looked back at Scott perplexed. "Are you not coming?"

"You will be accompanying Professor Charles Xavier and myself." Erik got up and Scott claimed his chair back with a chuckle. 

"Yeah, you never told me what exactly you were going to be a professor of, Lehnsherr. Come on, tell me. Is it Professor of personality? Or Professor Lehnsherr, Master in Magnetism?" Both Scott and Jean started giggling like school kids. Erik knew now he was starting to spend too much time with them. 

"You don't need to know. All you two need to worry about is keeping tabs on those trial patients. When we are done, we'll call you and let you know what we find. Let's go, Hank."

The two made their way out the door and jumped into Hank's car. "This is going to be really exciting, isn't it?" Hank replied with a goofy grin. Erik refrained from rolling his eyes. 

"Sure, tons of fun. Just drive."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to throw a couple of easter eggs in this chapter, including one outside of the X-Men movieverse.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this from a tumblr post that looked too good to pass up. I hope I can do it justice. It has been quite a while since I wrote a fanfic, (I'm talking about years here) so I hope I'm not too rusty. I am new to AO3 but I am a fan of quite a few of you on here. I also found inspiration from watching Mindhunters as well. I will try to post as often as I can between work. I hope this story will reach the end as sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough at closing things up neatly.  
> Tumblr post -
> 
>  
> 
> <http://endlessthunder.tumblr.com/post/165438191190/cherik-au-where-charles-is-a>  
> 


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